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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26645458">Sins of A Father</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetXscape/pseuds/SweetXscape'>SweetXscape</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sins of A Father [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bestiality, Consensual Underage Sex, Depression, Descent into Madness, Discussion of Abortion, Dreams and Nightmares, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Flogging, Forced Abortion, Gore, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Hostage Situations, Hurt Tony Stark, Incest, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, Menstrual Sex, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Miscarriage, Morgan Stark Needs a Hug (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Morgan Stark-centric (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Tony Stark, Parent-Child Relationship, Parent/Child Incest, Prophetic Dreams, Protective Tony Stark, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Assault, Sexual Violence, Sickfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Teen Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Time Skips, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Nightmares, Tony Stark-centric, Underage - Freeform, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Whump, kidnapped morgan stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:26:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>120,794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26645458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetXscape/pseuds/SweetXscape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony could not, for the life of him, recollect how in the hell they’d ended up here or why they were here in the first place — wherever here was.</p>
<p>He let out a pathetic noise as he continues to shake his daughter awake, but she does not budge. He bursts into tears, at her inability to come to and at the frustration of their circumstances. Tony knew, deep down within the very depths of his core, that they were in trouble... deep, deep trouble.</p>
<p>「 While shopping for a birthday gift for Pepper, Tony and Morgan are abducted and held captive for two years. A series of detailed accounts of their two years spent in isolated captivity is unveiled as well as the domino effect their disappearance has on their loved ones as time progresses. Within those two years, Tony and Morgan’s lives are forever changed and will never be quite the same ever again 」</p>
<p> <br/>Soundtrack on <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IQVu4U5itY5TbJFoSRPIG?si=ZQn1_UlBSVSBMORPVV7NsQ">Spotify</a>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) &amp; Tony Stark, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe)/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sins of A Father [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>163</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>“Bad dreams are ghosts of our fears and worries, haunting us while we sleep.” —Maria V. Snyder<em></em></em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Something that had been floating around in my head for quite some time now and would not leave me alone until I did something about it, and I did, and this is essentially what’s come about from finally allowing that plot bunny running around inside my head to do what it does best and cause havoc for me to inevitably clean up and write about. So, here we are...</p><p>As a disclaimer: this story is going to be dealing with <em>a lot<em> of controversial and taboo subject matters and it’s going to be one helluva chaotic ride, so if you find that you are easily triggered; please take heed to the tags and warnings for this story and proceed at your own discretion. Thank you in advance.</em></em></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Tony lets out a soft sigh as he lies sprawled out on a beach chair, feeling the warm breeze caress his skin.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The weather was gorgeous; the sky was a heavenly shade of blue and the sounds of the waves splashing against the shore brought about a peculiar sense of tranquility within that Tony had not felt in quite some time.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It lasted all but a very short time before he felt the presence of his daughter beside him. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know she was there.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Morgan,” Tony says, peeking an eye open and sure enough, there she is, clad in her adorable one-piece polka dot swimsuit with her lips poked out in a pouty expression, the same expression she would often use when she wanted something from him. “Sweetheart, if you’ve come back over here to ask what I think you’re going to ask—”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Please daddy,” Morgan pleads, gazing down at her father with wide earnest eyes as she tugs at the pocket of his swim trunks, standing beside his beach chair. “Please.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Morgan, I said no. The water is too deep.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know how to swim daddy. I’m not a baby. I’m nine and a half years old.” Morgan replies with indignation. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know sweetie, but you still can’t go in by yourself.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Then swim with me, daddy. Please.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You know she won’t stop until you take her.” Pepper interjects with a slight giggle as she shifts a bit in the beach chair she lounged on beside him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know. That’s the problem.” Tony sneers with a shake of his head. “She’s spoiled as hell.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Please daddy.” Morgan continues to plead. “Please, please, please.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Alright, alright,” Tony sighs with a roll of his eyes as he arises from his relaxed position on the beach chair. “I’ll go with you, just stop begging. It’s not a good look.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yay!” Morgan cheers, excitedly jumping up and down as she claps her hands together. “Let’s go, papa bear!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Be careful you two!” Tony hears Pepper shout to them as they head closer towards the shore.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hey! Slow down kiddo.” Tony lightly scolds his daughter as she wastes no time taking him by the hand and dragging him towards the shore where the light blue ocean water just barely reaches his knees and Morgan’s waist. “Alright, now, before we go in, I want you to stick close to me at all times. No swimming off or swimming in any direction where I can’t see you. Am I understood?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes daddy, I understand.” Morgan replies with an exasperated sigh and an annoyed expression on her face.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m serious Morgan. You better not try anything or we won’t be returning to the beach for a while.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Morgan sighs, nodding.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay daddy, I understand.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tony nods and allows his daughter to lead him out onto the large body of water, until they’re fully immersed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Look at me daddy! I’m swimming!” Morgan giggles from across from him as she splashes around in a way Tony found endearing.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’ve gotten so much better sweetheart. Look at you!” Tony chuckles, watching as his daughter swam in circles around him, showcasing all of the exercises she’s learned in her weekly private swim lessons.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Daddy! Daddy! Look how long I can hold my breath for!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No, Morgan, wait a second sweetie—” He tries, but it’s too late. Morgan has already disappeared under the water. “Morgan!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tony’s eyes search aimlessly and Morgan is nowhere to be found. He’d lost sight of her. A panic began to set in as he called for his daughter, ducked his head under water several times but to no avail. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Morgan!” He calls. “Morgan, this isn’t funny! You’re scaring your father! Morgan—”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Suddenly, Tony feels something grasp at his ankle and yank him down, with a force that pulls his entire body under water, completely submerging him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tony opens his eyes and tries to see what exactly it is that’s pulling on him with a strength and force that unsettles him, but he cannot decipher who or what it is.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But he does see his daughter, calling for him as she fights to be freed from the large serpent that has her encaged in its grasp.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tony tries, with all of his might, to save her, to protect her, but whatever has a hold on him tightens its grip and pulls him down further, away from his daughter that tried so desperately to free herself, and no matter how much he fights, he was at the mercy of whatever force that had him in a vice-like grip.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tony can see the life drain from his daughter’s eyes as the large serpent tightens its grip on her small frame, around her neck, and Tony screams, watching his daughter’s lifeless daughter sink to the bottom of the ocean.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tony’s screams go unheard and water fills his lungs and his chest feels painfully heavy as a result. The serpent, as large as a school bus, makes its way towards him with lightening speed, bright yellow eyes that gleamed scornfully. </em>
</p>
<p><em>Tony knew in that moment that this was it, but he does not care, because his daughter is dead and he couldn’t save her. The weak attempts of freeing himself were useless and as he watched the darkness consume his daughter’s lifeless body, he allows more water to fill his lungs and just before the serpent is about to rip him to shreds, he blacks out</em>.</p>
<p>“Morgan!”</p>
<p>Tony awakens with a start; hair disheveled and sweat trickling down the side of his face and neck, gasping audibly with blurred vision by unshed tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. His gaze wonders around the bedroom aimlessly and in a panicked manner as his chest heaves up and down almost violently.</p>
<p>“Tony. Tony, sweetheart, are you okay?”</p>
<p>Tony yelps at the sound of his wife’s voice beside him, visibly startled.</p>
<p>It is then that he realizes that it was a nightmare, <em>only</em> a nightmare, and that he was alive, in his bed with his beautiful wife, not at the bottom of the ocean, watching his daughter be strangled to death while he did nothing but drown in his own sorrows.</p>
<p>“Tony—”</p>
<p>“Pepper,” he breathes out, grasping hold of her arm, his labored breaths gradually evening out. “…Oh thank God.”</p>
<p>“…They’re back, aren’t they?” Pepper asks gently and he looks at her, sighing heavily as he lies back down, staring up at the ceiling.</p>
<p>“…Yeah.” He nods. “I thought they were finally gone for good but, these past three nights have been absolute hell.”</p>
<p>“Do you want to talk about it?” Pepper asks, gazing up at him with those striking sapphire eyes that always managed to lift his spirits whenever they were on him for long periods of time.</p>
<p>“Now why would I want to burden you with my shit?” Tony chuckles as he rubs at his eyes. “Besides, your birthday is tomorrow, which means I have a lot to get done today.”</p>
<p>“Tony, come on now, I told you I didn’t want anything elaborate—”</p>
<p>“You say that every year and yet, it changes nothing, so there’s no point in trying to convince me not to when you know I will. I always do.” He smirks.</p>
<p>“Another reason why I hate you.” Pepper giggles, rolling her eyes. “You never listen!”</p>
<p>“Don’t say that sweet pea, you know you love me. Maybe not as much as I love you, but I know you adore me. Everyone does.”</p>
<p>“I do.” Pepper smiles, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “…I really do.”</p>
<p>Tony grins, already feeling considerably better in a matter of minutes, despite the heaviness that remained present within his chest that wasn’t particularly pleasant.</p>
<p>Ignoring the feeling, he rolls on top of his wife and leans down to press a tender kiss to her lips.</p>
<p>“You think we can get a quickie in before the kid awakes?”</p>
<p>“Tony, no, it’s too risky. What if she hears us?”</p>
<p>“Morgan sleeps like a bear in hibernation, especially on weekends. You know it takes a damn near blow horn to get her up. We’ll be fine.” Tony reassures, already leaving wet, lingering kisses down the side of his wife’s face.</p>
<p>“I wonder where she gets that from, because you and I are nowhere near heavy sleepers.”</p>
<p>“Probably your father, I had to damn near deck him in the face to wake him up on our first thanksgiving together with your family. You remember that?”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Pepper laughs, but they soon turn to moans as Tony nibbles on the area between her neck and shoulder. “You know my father was diagnosed with Narcolepsy. He couldn’t help it.”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright, I’ll give the old man a break.” Tony chuckles, tugging away the blankets so that he can get an exemplary view of his wife’s naked body, lean and slender it was. He could even make out the faded Caesarean scar beneath her abdomen, where they opened his wife up and retrieved their baby girl from her womb. The day he fell in love with his wife all over again. A day he would never forget. “I mean, he did help bring the love of my life into this world, can’t hate on him too much, rest his soul.”</p>
<p>“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Tony.” Pepper utters out breathlessly, eyes wide with awe and genuine desire as he slides her underwear down her legs.</p>
<p>“Is it? I’m pretty sure I’ve said plenty of other things that—”</p>
<p>“You <em>know </em>what I mean Tony.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Tony chuckles. “Well, it’s the truth. You are the love of my life, the best decision I ever made and we created a wonderful life together with a beautiful and intelligent daughter to boot. I’d say we’ve done pretty well for ourselves. What do you think?”</p>
<p>“I think I may just be the happiest woman on earth.” Pepper smirks as she assists him in discarding his boxers to the floor. “But you know what will make me even happier?”</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Tony asks, in a tone that is gruff and hoarse from sleep and arousal.</p>
<p>Pepper smiles in that same sexually mischievous way that always got him going, no matter what.</p>
<p>“You inside of me, fucking me so good, I won’t be able to walk straight for days.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Tony groans, simply by her words alone, along with her wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling his body in closer so that his erection presses against her thigh. “You always did have a way with words. Shocked the hell out of me when we first made love. I had no idea someone as sweet and innocent looking as you could have a mouth like a sailor in bed.” He chuckles in a reminiscent manner. “I wasn’t mad about it though — far from it actually.”</p>
<p>“I remember the look on your face,” Pepper smiles as she reaches a hand out, brushing her fingers through his short, wavy locks of hair. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost after I was finished with you. Never seen it coming.”</p>
<p>“It was when I knew that you were the one… that I was in love.” Tony then returns to leaving sweet wet kisses to the side of her face again. “I knew I had to make you mine.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad you did,” Pepper breathes out, shakily.</p>
<p>Tony pulls away to gaze into her eyes, those wide blue eyes that always reminded him of the Caribbean Sea and reaches a hand out, tangling his fingers within her soft, strawberry blonde tresses.</p>
<p>“Me too.” Tony smiles, before closing the small gap between them, in a tender, passionate kiss.</p>
<p>Tony is lacing their fingers, pinning her wrists down against the mattress and it’s not long before they’re moving together as one and Tony is witnessing all of the pretty arousing facial expressions she makes as he fucks her in a way she always liked to be fucked: messy and rough.</p>
<p>And it draws out the sounds from her that ignites pleasant tingles within the pit of his belly as well as a deep guttural sound erupting from the back of his throat as he rocks into her with a passion and vigor that made the king sized bed they occupied themselves on practically vibrate from their movements.</p>
<p>“Tony…” Pepper moans, digging her nails into the smooth skin of his back as he in turn leans down to nibble on the open skin of her neck.</p>
<p>Eventually, his lips find hers and slowly, but surely, he begins to feel the tension his body previously held dissipate with every thrust of his hips and swipe of Pepper’s tongue against his.</p>
<p>The uneasy feeling he’d been carrying around for the past week had been momentarily numbed and Tony found himself in a haze of pleasure, lost in the feeling of Pepper’s tight wet heat encasing him so marvelously, it causes a pleasant sense of vertigo, shivers rush up his spine and his toes curl with delight.</p>
<p>It was obvious to Tony by the sounds they both made together, that neither of them were going to last. They never did. Their morning sex was like no other. It was truly the best, only falling second to their make-up sex.</p>
<p>When Tony took one of Pepper’s nipples in his mouth, she let out an orgasm inducing moan as she came, arching her body up into his, eyes closed and lips parted.</p>
<p>Tony could feel the heat of it, of her orgasm, and it inevitably aroused his own. Tony rode it out as his thrusts became swifter and purposeful, until his wife had gotten every last drop out of him.</p>
<p>Tony collapsed on top of Pepper, taking his sweet time withdrawing from her and allowing the afterglow to encompass him, taking the edge off and replacing it with a calmness he’d longed for, especially after the nightmares.</p>
<p>When Tony eventually moved to lie beside her, Pepper snuggled up to him, causing a soft smile to emerge on his face as he wraps a protective arm around her slender frame, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.</p>
<p>“…I love you.” Pepper whispers sleepily.</p>
<p>“I love you too.” He replies, before dozing off again himself, except this time, into a dreamless state of nothingness, which was always better than the nightmares. He’d always choose the blankness that sometimes occurred rather than the horrid nightmares his mind would conjure up just to torture him. <em>Anything</em> was better than <em>that</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tony awakens later that morning and finds his wife still slumbering beside him, naked and content. God he wishes he could take a picture of how beautiful and peaceful she looked in that moment. He didn’t want to leave her, even though he knew he had to, that is if he wanted her surprise birthday party to be as close to perfect as a party could be. He still had some last minute errands to run that included taking Morgan to pick out her birthday gift for Pepper.</p>
<p>Tony couldn’t believe his daughter waited until the very last minute, especially for her mother’s birthday. Morgan could be a procrastinator, but this was ridiculous. Tony made a mental note to talk to her about her priorities, which seemed all over the place as of late. But truthfully, could one expect any different from a fifteen-year old? Tony knew he shouldn’t, but Morgan was his daughter and he expected better from her.</p>
<p>Perhaps, he’d spoiled his daughter a wee bit more than what was considered healthy for her development, but she was his only child. She rarely disobeyed him, scarcely back talked and was bringing home an excellent grade point average. Why wouldn’t he spoil his little girl rotten when she deserved that and more.</p>
<p>But, Tony can admit that Pepper had a point. Morgan, at some point, needed to learn the value of hard work and not getting accustomed to coasting off her last name, expecting everything to be handed to her because she said so.</p>
<p>Tony was much softer on her than Pepper and it was obvious to Morgan and anyone else who took the time to observe the family dynamics to recognize that Pepper was the primary disciplinarian.</p>
<p>It wasn’t that Tony didn’t want to discipline Morgan; he was just so paranoid that he would turn out the way his father had — ruling with an iron fist, no questions asked.</p>
<p>Tony always vowed to himself that if he ever had kids, he would never be that way with them because it was a horrible way to parent and it had the opposite effect on him growing up. Because his father was so damn strict all the time, it pushed him to rebel even more than he probably would have had he had a normal father to begin with. That particular parenting style made him resent his father, even in death. And the last thing he wanted was for Morgan to ever hold any type of resentment towards him as her father. It would break him. He knows it.</p>
<p>As he carefully slips out of his wife’s arms, he leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek before retrieving his robe that rested on the arm of the chair near his night stand.</p>
<p>As he wrapped the silk fabric around his frame, he pads his way out of the room, down the hall, and over to Morgan’s room. He yawns, rubbing at his eyes tiredly as he opens her bedroom door.</p>
<p>Just as he suspects, she’s knocked out, buried under the thick fabric of her comforter, surrounded by the various stuffed animals she always slept with.</p>
<p>Tony takes a moment to revel in the sight. She looked adorable. He couldn’t believe she was already fifteen. Time had gone by entirely too quickly for Tony’s liking. One day, she was five-years old, asking him how to properly tie her shoe and the next day, she was fifteen, wearing makeup, clothes that revealed way too much skin for Tony’s liking and pestering him about making an exception to the rule of her being unable to date until she was seventeen. Tony didn’t care, that was one rule he was not budging on. Morgan was just too young. She wasn’t ready for that or all that came with dating and boys. Truthfully, Tony wasn’t ready for it either.</p>
<p>“Morgie,” Tony whispers as he gently shakes his daughter awake. “Morgie, time to wake up…”</p>
<p>Morgan doesn’t stir, so he shakes her a bit harder.</p>
<p>“Morgan.”</p>
<p>She still doesn’t respond and Tony sighs heavily.</p>
<p>“Goddamn, you really are like a bear in hibernation.” Tony grumbles as he moves across the room towards her stereo. “I’m sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you left me with no other choice.”</p>
<p>Tony cuts on her stereo and turns the volume up a considerable amount and suddenly, the booming voice of a male artist comes blaring out of her speakers, loud enough to wake the dead.</p>
<p>
  <em>“KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME? ARE YOU RIDING?</em>
  <br/>
  <em>SAY YOU'll NEVER EVER LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME</em>
  <br/>
  <em>‘CAUSE I WANT YA, AND I NEED YA”</em>
</p>
<p>Morgan awakens with a start, eyes bulging out of her head like Bullwinkle, her bedhead and mess of long brown hair strewn all over the place, scruffy and unkempt it was.</p>
<p>Tony was doubled over, laughing his ass off while Morgan snatches one of her stuffed animals — a giraffe — off the bed and chucks it at him, which he expertly catches.</p>
<p>“Dad! What the hell?” Morgan shrieks.</p>
<p>“Hey, watch your mouth young lady.” Tony scolds his daughter as he turns the volume down on her stereo, immediately switching from lighthearted to dead serious within seconds.</p>
<p>“Dad,” she whines, flopping back down onto her bed exasperatedly. “Why did you do that? I was sleeping you know.”</p>
<p>“<em>Yes </em>I know. And do <em>you </em>know it takes the devil himself to wake you up?”</p>
<p>“What’s your point? It’s Saturday. I’m supposed to be sleeping in.” She retorts, rather annoyed as she shifts her position, turning her back towards him as she pulls the covers up over her shoulders.</p>
<p>“No, what you’re supposed to be doing is getting dressed and ready to go out.” Tony replies, ripping the comforter off her body, revealing the tank top and underwear she donned underneath. “And what did I tell you about sleeping in your underwear?”</p>
<p>“What? It’s more comfortable. And what’s this about going out? I never agreed to that.” She says, reaching for her comforter, but he pulls it away from her grasp. “Dad,” she whines.</p>
<p>“You have to pick out your mother’s birthday gift, remember? You promised you would go with me today.”</p>
<p>“I did?” Morgan asks, visibly disinterested. “I don’t remember that.”</p>
<p>“<em>Yes</em> you did and you’re not reneging on it now. If you wanted to spend this Saturday sleeping in, you should’ve gotten all of this done a lot sooner instead of waiting until the day before you’re mother’s birthday.”</p>
<p>“Daddy please—”</p>
<p>”Nope, I’m not letting you slide on this one. You had plenty of time beforehand yet you procrastinated and now you have to deal with the consequences of doing just that.” Tony picks up a few miscellaneous items off his daughter’s bedroom floor and sets them on her dresser. “Come on Morgan, I’m not kidding around.”</p>
<p>He goes and rips the comforter off her frame yet again, which evokes an annoyed groan from his daughter in return.</p>
<p>“I’m going to get ready and when I come back in here, you better be dressed, or else.”</p>
<p>Morgan opens her eyes to gaze up at him sleepily and he’s giving her a pointed look before he leaves her be to get ready.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The uneasiness returns as Tony slips into the shower, the lukewarm water that usually brought him a sense of ease now made him even feel more anxious than he already was.</p>
<p>He couldn’t stop thinking about that large serpent that seemed to appear out of nowhere, entrapping his daughter, subsequently squeezing the life out of her as he dreadfully watched, held back by some unseen malevolent force that he knew was there but could not see.</p>
<p>Tony tried not to overanalyze his nightmares too much, but this one in particular had bothered him a lot more than he let on. The nature of it disturbed him, unsettled him to the point where he found himself ruminating over every detail of it since the first night he’d awakened, out of breath and drenched in sweat, frightened to death of the repulsive images his mind could cultivate.</p>
<p>Goosebumps form on his skin as soon as he steps out of the shower, pushing the glass door open and feeling the cool air caress his naked skin. Quickly wrapping a towel around his waist, he proceeds to his routine morning hygiene, which consisted of brushing his teeth, washing his face, combing his hair and trimming his goatee, with shaky hands of course.</p>
<p>Tony takes comfort in the sight of his wife, slumbering away still, barricaded underneath the thick comforter, undeterred by his absence from her arms.</p>
<p>He felt tempted to slide back underneath those covers and cuddle with her like he usually did on late Saturday mornings, sleeping in until noon, watching reruns of old family sitcoms in a complete state of utter relaxation.</p>
<p>Tony resisted the urge and moved towards the direction of his closet to get dressed for the day. He didn’t plan to be out for very long, only to pick up a few last minute items for Pepper’s birthday bash the following day.</p>
<p>Tony made a mental note to phone Rhodey as soon as he got back home to confirm with him that everything was set to go as planned tomorrow. After all, together they would plan Pepper’s birthday bashes every year and each year they had gone off without a hitch thus far. This year would be no different. Tony would make sure of that.</p>
<p>Tony glanced at the time and realized he was already running behind schedule as he quickly dressed in denim jeans and a black fleece, very laid-back compared to his usual attire. He did not plan to be out very long and hoped to arrive back home around three in the afternoon, four at the latest.</p>
<p>As he finishes getting dressed, Tony moves across the room to kiss his wife goodbye, smiling softly at the way she snoozed so peacefully. He couldn’t wait to get back home to her, to her warm hugs and soft kisses.</p>
<p>He’d turned into such a sap for her and he wasn’t even upset about it.</p>
<p>“Sweet dreams beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to her forehead, careful not to wake her. “I’ll be back soon.”</p>
<p>As he makes his way out the room, Tony finds Morgan already downstairs, dressed and ready to roll, much to his relief because he did <em>not</em> feel like having a battle today of having to resort to physically dragging her out the bed. Morgan was fifteen-years old now and was much too old now to throw temper tantrums over having to part from her beloved bed on a late Saturday morning.</p>
<p>“Glad to see you’re up and at ‘em.” Tony smiles, running a hand through his daughter’s long brown hair that still felt damp between his fingers (presumably from a shower), leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Glad things didn’t have to get ugly because they would have had you not been down here in a timely fashion.”</p>
<p>Morgan rolls her eyes as she gets up from the stool she perched herself on as she ate her cheerios and goes to discard her bowl in the sink.</p>
<p>“Precisely why I decided to get up when I did. I didn’t feel like hearing you persecute my ears all morning.”</p>
<p>“I resent that.” Tony grumbles.</p>
<p>“I resent having to waste my Saturday, so I guess we’re both even.” She sneers.</p>
<p>Tony shrugs as he pours the coffee he’d been brewing into his portable mug as he glances at his daughter, who finishes cleaning off her bowl and opens up the dishwasher.</p>
<p>“Your fault for waiting until the last minute, maybe you’ll have your priorities in order next time so this won’t happen again.”</p>
<p>“You’ve made your point.” Morgan grumbles in an annoyed tone of voice. “Can we go now?”</p>
<p>Tony shakes his head.</p>
<p>“Don’t rush me, young lady. Sit there like the good little girl I know you can be and wait until daddy’s finished pouring his coffee.”</p>
<p>Morgan glares at him and he flashes her a complacent grin as he slides the coffee pot back into its placement and seals the lid on his portable coffee mug closed.</p>
<p>“Alright, <em>now</em> we can go.”</p>
<p>“Took you long enough,” Morgan mutters out as she reaches for her handbag.</p>
<p>“I heard that.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Morgan smiles, flashing him her own complacent smile and a wink.</p>
<p>“God, we’re too much alike. It’s genuinely scary sometimes.” Tony murmurs, grabbing hold of his keys and wallet and following behind her out the door.</p>
<p>“I heard that!” Morgan replies, in that annoying sing-song voice that was positively <em>grating</em> to his ears.</p>
<p>“Good,” Tony smirks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The weather was overcast, gloomy and somber. Honestly, it reflected his mood and did not help with the nagging feeling he’d been carrying around these past few days that left him feeling apprehensive and uneasy.</p>
<p>Tony had felt nauseous the entire day and he could not understand why. It wasn’t the kind that was related to stomach aches or consuming certain foods that did not agree with one’s body. No, <em>this</em> was entirely different, worse than anything he’s ever experienced and that was saying a lot, given that Tony had been through the trenches — through hell! — and still, somehow, someway, he managed to pull through — just barely.</p>
<p>But <em>this</em>, whatever it is, unnerved him in a way that made him uncharacteristically jittery, paranoid and jumpy.</p>
<p>Morgan had taken notice to his odd behavior almost immediately, especially when she’d caught him in a daze, lost in his own reverie thoughts, of <em>fear</em>, one too many times throughout the day.</p>
<p>It was obvious to his daughter that his mind had been elsewhere, although she didn’t appear all that perturbed by it, for she had been in a world of her own, way too preoccupied with that phone of hers that kept buzzing every few minutes.</p>
<p>“Morgan?”</p>
<p>“…”</p>
<p>“Morgan!”</p>
<p>“Huh?” She asks, snapping her head up from the cellphone she had clutched in her grasp. “Did you say something?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I did. Have you decided on something for your mother’s birthday gift yet?”</p>
<p>“As a matter of fact I did. While you were occupied with that flirtatious jeweler from Tiffany &amp; Co., I went and had this made for her.”</p>
<p>Morgan pulls out a throw pillow from her shopping bag and hands it over to him. The thing was, it wasn’t just any regular degular pillow. It was customized. The fabric was soft and lustrous. The color was lavender (Pepper’s favorite), and the words printed on the pillow were even more endearing than the gift itself.</p>
<p>The message read as following:</p>
<p>
  <em>Mom, you are the strongest person I have known. I admire you for your strength, kindness and compassion. You are my mother, teacher and best friend and I know I don’t say it often enough but you mean the world to me. And every year that passes, I love you even more and I am grateful for you every day! Happy Birthday!<br/>Love, Morgan.</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh, wow,” Tony breathes out, utterly impressed and touched by his daughter’s words for her mother. “You’re mother’s going to love this. You know how sentimental she gets about these types of things. She still has all of your drawings dating back to Pre-K.” Tony chuckles.</p>
<p>“Precisely why I figured this would be the perfect birthday gift.” Morgan grins.</p>
<p>“This might be enough to make up for your procrastination. You really outdid yourself kid.”</p>
<p>“I did, didn’t I?” Morgan smirks.</p>
<p>“Don’t get cocky young lady.” Tony lightly admonishes, suppressing a smile. “You still have a lot more making up to do.”</p>
<p>“Sure I do,” Morgan says with a shake of her head and roll of her eyes. “Anyways, are we done yet? We’ve been out all day and I’m quite famished.”</p>
<p>Tony rolls his eyes at the dramatic way Morgan lets out an exaggerated sigh and rubs at her belly.</p>
<p>“You are such a drama queen.”</p>
<p>“Says the drama queen himself,” Morgan retorts, which earns a sharp glare from him in response. “What? I heard all about your diva ways before I was born. You weren’t exactly an angel yourself dad.”</p>
<p>“You and that mouth of yours will get you in serious trouble one day.” Tony replies with a shake of his head.</p>
<p>“Don’t be upset daddy, you know it’s true. Own your past and stand in your truth. No one will shame you or your Groomzilla tendencies.”</p>
<p>Tony glares at her and Morgan simply bursts into a fit of laughter in response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who are you texting?” Tony asks, glancing at his daughter in the passenger seat as he stops at a red light, giggling at something she read on her phone, perhaps a bit too much for Tony’s liking. “Morgan?”</p>
<p>“Huh? Oh, no one daddy, it’s no one.”</p>
<p>“Why do I have a feeling you’re lying?”</p>
<p>“Because you’re paranoid?”</p>
<p>“That may be true, but I’m not dumb Morgan and you’re not fooling <em>me</em> of all people. You’ve been glued to that phone all day and it’s been going off like you’re a member of the United Nations. And don’t give me the excuse that those are your friends blowing you up all day because I know that’s not true.”</p>
<p>“Daddy—”</p>
<p>“Don’t you ‘daddy’ me young lady. I’ve made it abundantly clear that you were too young to date.”</p>
<p>“But I’m fifteen-years old! I’m not a baby anymore. I can take care of myself.” Morgan laments in indignation. “I understand that you want to protect me, but I don’t understand why you can’t trust me.”</p>
<p>Tony sighs exasperatedly as the traffic light changes to green again and he presses his foot to the gas.</p>
<p>“Morgan, we’ve been over this a gazillion times already, you know it’s not because I don’t trust you, it’s—”</p>
<p>“Daddy, watch out!” Morgan screams, so loudly it sounded like a bullhorn directly at his ear.</p>
<p>But one thing he would never forget is how anguished and terrified his daughter sounded in that moment. The sound would be forever etched in his brain for as long as he lives.</p>
<p>And he’s at a loss for words as they cross an intersection, only to find a large black van head right towards them at full speed. Tony tried, God he desperately <em>tried</em> to navigate the sports utility they occupied as best as he could, but the van was heading towards them at lighting speed and there was no way he would’ve been able to maneuver his way out of the situation without getting himself and his daughter killed in the process.</p>
<p>As the van neared closer to them, Tony felt as if his heart had sank to the pit of his stomach and fear, unadulterated <em>fear</em>, gripped him in a way it never had before. And the sounds of his daughter’s screams, her utter <em>terror</em> at the realization that her life would come to an abrupt, bitter end and there was nothing he could do to quell her fears as her father in that moment. It tore and rippled through him in ways that would haunt him all the way to his grave.</p>
<p>And just as he reaches over to her, to hold her maybe, comfort her in their last moments perhaps, everything goes black and the last thing Tony hears is his daughter’s wails and the sounds of their car being pummeled and screeching against the concrete before he is knocked unconscious and into an endless abyss of darkness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You get the female and I’ll get the male and do it quickly. We don’t have much time.” The older man demands, peering around him in an anxious manner to make sure there weren’t any witnesses near or prying eyes from afar.</p>
<p>The intersection is rather empty, eerily so, just as it usually was around this time during the day, which made the plan even more of a success.</p>
<p>The two men scrambled through the heap of smoke and discarded metal to retrieve the two unconscious bodies from the mangled vehicle with a sense of heightened urgency.</p>
<p>One of the men were able to salvage the female from the wreckage from pulling her out from the shattered passenger window where she bled from her forearm due to the shards of glass nearly embedded in her bruised and bloodied skin and transfers her to the back of the black van, tossing her lifeless body unceremoniously into the back with a carelessness that was rather alarming.</p>
<p>“Logan, come help me with him. His leg is stuck.” The older man of the two called over as he struggled to dislodge the unconscious male from the driver’s seat.</p>
<p>“He’s heavy as fuck.” The younger male grumbles as he holds the unconscious male’s upper half up while the other struggled to free his lower half from the wreckage.</p>
<p>“Pull!”</p>
<p>The younger man obeys and <em>pulls</em>, with as much strength as he could muster in that moment<em>, pulls</em>,<em> pulls</em>, <em>pulls</em> and yet, it makes no difference, which annoys the young man greatly as he lets out a loud huff of frustration.</p>
<p>“Shit!”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“His leg is really jammed in there. It looks like he may have a broken ankle.”</p>
<p>“Well get it out Elijah!”</p>
<p>“I’m trying! Calm the hell down and pull dammit <em>pull!</em>”</p>
<p>The two men continue to tug, pull and heave the unconscious and insensible body from the wreckage, even as the distance sounds of sirens began to lament in the distance.</p>
<p>One of the men, the one that’s carrying the upper half of the unconscious male, lets out an exasperated sound of irritation as he continues to tug and pull, with all of his strength, until he goes tumbling to the ground with the body in tow as it breaks free from its restraints inside the damaged vehicle.</p>
<p>“Come on Logan, let’s go!”</p>
<p>The older man rushes to the younger man’s side and helps carry the unconscious male through the mess of broken glass, missing car parts and thick fog and into the back of the van where the unconscious male joins the unconscious female.</p>
<p>Quickly, the two men rush to close the double doors of the van and scurry into the driver and passenger’s seat.</p>
<p>“Logan, phone Angel and tell him that everything thus far was a success and that we’re on our way back to the facility.”</p>
<p>“Copy that,” the younger man replies, already fumbling for his phone as the older man puts the large vehicle in reverse, switching gears and putting the petal to the metal as the black van flees the scene, leaving tire marks behind on the pavement as they took off in lighting speed in the opposite direction of the ambulance that was now heading towards the scene of the collusion.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 1. Wounds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>“Of course we all have times when we’re weak<br/>When you cannot find the version of yourself you seek<br/>We all have times when we weep<br/>It’s a troubled life, traumatized psychologically<br/>Myself, did everything right, didn’t I?<br/>So why aren’t I whole?<br/>I will sew these wounds myself”<em></em></em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A playlist for this story can be found <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IQVu4U5itY5TbJFoSRPIG?si=e8CICH9-SX-gnXVaGaLmvQ">here</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Daddy, I’m scared.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I know Momo, I know. But you have nothing to be afraid of.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t wanna go,” the little girl whines as she drops her Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle themed lunch pail to the ground and latches her small body onto Tony’s leg, gazing up at him with those wide and tearful hazel brown eyes that practically tore the man’s heart in two. “Please daddy, don’t make me go. I wanna stay with you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony sighs and leans down so that he is at eye level with his daughter. He takes her by her small hands and gives them a reassuring squeeze, reaching a hand out to brush away a strand of hair behind her ear and wipe away the lone tear that stained her puffy, reddened cheeks.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t cry sweetheart, you know how much daddy hates it when you cry.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I can’t help it.” Morgan sniffles. “I wanna stay with you daddy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You know you can’t baby girl. As much as I would love to have you all to myself every second of the day, you need to socialize with other children your own age. Besides, you’ll only be here for a couple of hours and then I’ll be back to pick you up and you can tell me all about your first day of first grade while we swing by the ice cream parlor on the way home.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The little girl’s face visibly brightens, if only a little bit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ice cream parlor?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes. If you’re a good girl for daddy, I will reward you with your favorite ice cream.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yay!” Morgan cheers.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So does this mean you will go?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Morgan grumbles and Tony chuckles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…I guess.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Atta girl.” Tony grins, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And remember, if anything happens, you call me, okay? Do you still have the beeper I gave you for emergencies only?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes daddy.” Morgan replies, digging inside the pocket of her sundress and pulling out the small rectangular object that Tony had spent all of the previous night working on specifically for his daughter’s first day of school. She holds it up to him and grins toothily. “See?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good. Make sure you keep it for yourself and only use it for emergencies only. Okay?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes daddy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay.” Tony smiles, reaching for her temporarily abandoned lunch pail and hands it to her. “Have a good first day of school sweetie. Daddy loves you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you too.” She smiles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Could daddy get a goodbye hug and kiss before you go?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes.” The little girl giggles, stepping in between his legs and wrapping her small arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye daddy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Goodbye sweetheart.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His daughter would never know how many tears he shed when he returned to his car, watching his baby girl skip into the large white building with renewed giddiness alongside her fellow classmates.</em>
</p><p><em>Tony hadn’t wept like that since the stormy, wintry night she was born and Tony had figured that this wouldn’t be the last time he would act like this regarding all of his daughter’s milestones, no matter how pathetic it was</em>.</p><p>Tony awakens with a start, drenched in cold sweat and with labored breaths that felt as if his chest had been inflamed with every breath he took, polluted with something Tony could not immediately recognize, he just knew it wasn’t good — far from it.</p><p>Tony feels groggy and his head felt like someone took a sledgehammer to it more times than one. He felt sore all over, tired and utterly <em>exhausted</em>. He felt like keeping his eyelids open was a feat in and of itself as they felt like weights at that moment and all he wanted to do was sleep. But, as usual, his curiosity and confusion got the better of him.</p><p>As Tony found himself blinking away the sleep from his eyes and remaining still enough to barely quell the disorientation and bewilderment he felt the longer he forced himself to awaken his senses, to push past the fogginess that clouded his brain and the pain and discomfort he was in, both internally and externally and onto his surroundings, it was only then that he was able to immediately recognize how dark and spine-chilling it was, even in his addled state of mind.</p><p>Red is all he can see at first, the red glow of the room he was in. A room that wasn’t very big in size, probably of similar dimensions as a studio apartment, possibly smaller, if Tony had to guess. The light bulbs swinging from above twitched, drawing Tony’s attention as he snapped his head up, which only aggravated the throb in the back of his head.</p><p>The room, painted red under the glowing light, was devoid of any windows, doors, furniture or light. It was small and destitute, with only a bare mattress situated in the middle of the room that he occupied and a steel colored toilet in the corner. And to make matters worse, it was only then that he realized he didn’t have any clothes on, that he was naked, utterly naked, from head to toe.</p><p>Marks and bruises littered his skin, from the deep contusions covering his thighs and midsection, to the swelling and puffiness near his ankle that was wrapped up in gauze, underneath the white orthopedic cast that stopped just below his knee.</p><p>It is only then that he catches something in his peripheral vision. He turns his head only slightly to the side, precisely at a forty-five degree angle and that is when he sees her, when he sees his daughter, when he sees Morgan, lying beside him; naked, battered and bruised, with an orthopedic cast on her left arm and a large bandage around the left side of her head.</p><p>If Tony didn’t know any better, he would have believed his daughter to be dead, had it not been for the slight heaving of her chest, of her <em>breathing</em>, indicating that there was still life in his daughter’s lungs, despite the grim sight of her unconscious form beside him.</p><p>His throat feels dry, raw and hoarse. When he sees her, he wants to scream, in joy that she was still alive or in horror at realization of their predicament, he did not know. He was unable to form words in that moment, at least not coherent ones, all he could do was attempt to rouse her awake by his shaky hands nudging at her unconscious form, gentle enough to not hurt her, but forcible enough to rouse her to consciousness at least.</p><p>Morgan doesn’t stir and tears well up in his eyes as a result, blurring his vision and stinging his eyes. The memories of what had happened to them began to flood his mind and hit him like a ton of bricks.</p><p>He remembers that one minute; they were out shopping, doing their usual lighthearted father-daughter bantering and the next minute they were in a horrible car accident at an intersection. Tony could not, for the life of him, recollect how in the <em>hell </em>they’d ended up here or why they were here in the first place — wherever <em>here</em> was.</p><p>Tony lets out a pathetic noise as he continues to shake his daughter awake, but she does not budge. He bursts into tears, at her inability to come to and at the frustration of their circumstances. Tony knew, deep down within the very depths of his core, that they were in trouble, deep, <em>deep</em> trouble.</p><p>Tony had been in his fair share of fucked up situations that were oftentimes life-threatening, but this… <em>this </em>was different and he knew it, could feel it, and it frightened him in ways nothing else ever has and now his daughter had gotten tangled into it, which made him much more irrational than he usually would be in less than ideal predicaments.</p><p>It was one thing when it was just him. He could handle it if his life was potentially on the chopping block. But Morgan… Morgan was just a <em>kid</em>, his sweet, innocent little girl that was the least deserving of something as traumatic as this to happen in such a pivotal point in her young life. Hell, Tony was a grown man and was still recovering from half the shit he’d been through in his lifetime. Morgan was <em>fifteen </em>for heaven’s sake. This would inevitably affect her in ways it similarly affected him, but perhaps even worse and that was saying quite a lot given the fact that it’d been no secret he’d been pretty fucked up for a long while before Morgan had been born. He still was, but he’d gotten considerably better with dealing with his trauma than he used to be, thanks to Pepper and Rhodey along with the aid of weekly therapy sessions.</p><p>Eventually, he grows tired, extremely tired, too tired to move and he ends up settling down on the mattress, weeping from the tremendous pain his body was in, but mostly because of how helpless and weak he felt. He wallowed in his own pity until he eventually allowed his exhaustion to take precedence over his desire to remain conscious, if only to cease of the pity party of self-hatred and blame of getting himself and his child into this situation without the slightest clue on how to get them the hell out.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Tony awakens again to the flickering of the red light bulbs that hangs above him. He feels sore, but somewhat better than when he’d first awakened, not much, but a little bit.</p><p>Morgan is still passed out and in the same position she was in before, never having moved a muscle.</p><p>Tony tries to move and although it is painful, it’s possible. So, with the little strength managed to conjure up, he manages to crawl his way off the single full sized mattress and onto the cool, concrete floor, subsequently wincing in pain. He was much too old to be crawling on concrete floor, but he was definitely not at the stage where he could stand yet, much less walk. It was too painful, so he was stuck with the mediocre alternative, which was crawling around the small space, feel his way around a bit and search for any possible means of escape.</p><p>Tony finds nothing.</p><p>And it frustrates him just as much as it perplexes him. There <em>had</em> to be a trap door in here in <em>somewhere</em>, he just couldn’t see it, whether due to poor lighting or mere exhaustion — probably a good combination of both.</p><p>Tony crawled on that concrete floor, searching for an exit, a door, a weapon that could be used in self-defense — <em>anything</em> — until his knees began to ache and he was forced to retire on the mattress again.</p><p>He sifted through his brain, through his memories and tried to decipher where things had gone wrong, how they’d ended up here and why. There was nothing that he could remember that set off any alarm bells other than the eerie feeling he’d been having as of late, along with the nightmares.</p><p>Perhaps, all of those nightmares had been the red flags he’d missed, hidden in plain sight, along with the gut feeling that something had been wrong, terribly <em>wrong </em>even if he could not pinpoint what, exactly, it was that was continuously off. All of this occurred only days before he and Morgan had gotten into that brutal car accident and wound up here as a result.</p><p>Tony wishes now that he had taken those nightmares seriously instead of dismissing them and trying to sweep them under the rug (as he did with most things he had no desire to deal with), wishes he had taken his intuition more seriously. Maybe if he did, somehow, someway, he could’ve prevented this.</p><p>It was a bit irrational, but it made perfect sense in Tony’s emotionally wrecked and addled brain. Obviously, there had been red flags and Tony had not taken heed to them the way he should have. Tony should have known by now to trust his gut, because nine out of ten times, it was always right.</p><p>Now, he would pay for his own stupidity and negligence in the worst way imaginable.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“Well please; call me if you hear from them. It’s nine at night and they’re still not back yet.” Pepper laments over the phone as she paces the living room where her mother is seated on the leather sofa while James occupies himself on the recliner.</p><p>“Of course, you will be the first one we will call if we hear anything. Call us when you get an update, okay?”</p><p>“Okay.” Pepper sighs. “I’ll talk you later.”</p><p>“Sure thing.”</p><p>Pepper sets her phone down onto the coffee table and continues to pace the floor, anxiously.</p><p>“Sweetheart, I know your upset right now, but you need to sit down and relax—”</p><p>“Mother, how can I relax? I spent the entire day phoning everyone I know, all of Tony’s friends and colleagues alike and no one has heard from him or Morgan. This isn’t like him at all!”</p><p>“I have to agree with Pepper on this one Mrs. Potts, this isn’t like Tony at all. He would’ve called by now.”</p><p>And just then, a knock sounds at the front door, startling them all into immediate silence.</p><p>Pepper glances at James, then her mother, before rushing over to the front door, nearly tripping over her own feet as she does so, unlocking the bolts with shaky fingers and swinging the front door open with the hope and anticipation that she would find her husband and daughter on the other side.</p><p>She doesn’t.</p><p>Instead, she finds two uniformed officers, one male and one female and her heart sinks because she knows, even before they get the chance to open their mouths, that something was <em>terribly</em> wrong. She could feel it and by God it was overwhelming.</p><p>She was grateful for the solid presence of James that stood beside her, a reassuring one that brought her comfort despite the heavy, sinking feeling in the pit of her chest at the sight of the two officers that stood before her.</p><p>“Hello officers, is there something we can help you with?” James asks, in a tone Pepper knew was far more calm and collected than he probably felt on the inside.</p><p>“Yes. Is there a Pepper Potts-Stark that resides here?” The male officer of the two answers.</p><p>“That’s me,” Pepper pipes up, timid as she leans into James, who then envelopes his arms around her petite frame in response, as if he could sense her wariness. “Is there something wrong?”</p><p>“Yes ma’am, unfortunately, there is. May we come in? I think you may want to have a seat for this.”</p><p>Pepper reluctantly nods and steps aside to allow the two officers inside. James closes the door behind them and leads them into the living room.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Pepper immediately asks straight away, skipping straight to the point. “Why are you here?”</p><p>The two officer’s exchange looks, before the female officer lets out a heavy sigh and turns her steel blue eyes on Pepper with a vague expression.</p><p>“Mrs. Stark, my name is Officer Bryant and this is Officer Lesley. He was one of the first officers that was called to the scene of the accident—”</p><p>“Accident?” Pepper perks up, eyes widening in alarm. “What accident?”</p><p>“Mrs. Stark, I regret to inform you that your husband Anthony Stark and daughter Morgan Stark were in a traffic collision earlier today at approximately 2:45 at the Emerald Hill intersection. It appears to have been fatal, but we’re not confirmed on that just yet.”</p><p>“What do you mean you’re not confirmed on it? You mean to tell me my husband and child were in a car accident this afternoon and you all waited until almost ten at night to contact me?!” Pepper exclaims in anger, hurt and frustration as tears well up in her eyes. She feels James’ presence behind her again.</p><p>“We didn’t find their bodies inside the vehicle, only traces of blood — significant amounts of blood.” Officer Bryant replies, completely undeterred by her sudden outburst.  “We suspect their bodies may have been ejected from the vehicle at some point during the accident, which is why we have people out there right now attempting to locate their bodies. The vehicle was so irrevocably damaged in the collusion that we were unable to retrieve the license plate. We searched the vehicle as best as we could for any identifiers and eventually stumbled upon crumpled gift bags with receipts in them that was in your husband’s name.”</p><p>“We also have someone retrieving the video footage from today at the intersection at the approximate time your husband and daughter were in the collusion. We hope that will be the piece of the puzzle that seems to be missing from this case.” Officer Lesley says.</p><p>“How long will it take to recover the footage?” James asks.</p><p>“We should have it by tomorrow,” Officer Lesley replies. “We also have the recovered items from the totaled vehicle down at the station. We can have someone drop them off here for you or you can come down and pick them up yourself. Whichever is more convenient.”</p><p>James is the one that escorts the officers out and Pepper finds herself crumpling under her own weight while her mother rushes over to catch her before she hits the ground, but it’s of no use, she hits the ground with an audible <em>thunk</em>.</p><p>It was as if the weight of the day had finally come crashing down on her, the hours of worrying, the false sense of hope she’d been feeding herself all day, the anxiety — all of it.</p><p>There was a chance her husband and daughter were dead, that their bodies — their corpses — could be out there somewhere, alone in the darkened, chilly night.</p><p>It made something in Pepper’s belly twist and churn in displeasure, in pain and in anger. Never in her entire life had she felt as lost and helpless as she did in that moment. The closest that came to it is when her father had passed. She hadn’t been with Tony for that long, but she does remember how closely he held her when she’d first heard the news that her father had advanced stages of brain cancer.</p><p>If it hadn’t been for Tony, she wasn’t sure how she would’ve been able to deal with the trauma of losing her father, who had been the parent she’d always been closest to, if she did not have Tony there with her every step of the way.</p><p>This, however, was different. This was something Pepper could not handle by herself, did not have the strength to handle.</p><p>She had lost the love of her life and her little girl in the same day, the day before her birthday day. And she can’t help but wonder what she did to ever deserve something as horrifying as this to happen, so suddenly and so unexpectedly.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Tony attempts to examine his wounds as best as he could with his limited ability to move without a sharp, searing pain rushing up from his legs (specially the leg with the cast) up to his abdomen, all the way to the very back of his skull with a dull, reverberating ache that made the back of his eyes throb, which in turn made him want to close his eyes forever and never open them again. The red, eerie glow of the room wasn’t helping with the beginnings of his migraine at all.</p><p>From what he could tell, just going by the pain levels, he definitely had a broken ankle (which seemed to, thankfully, be the only serious injury he had that he could tell). There was also a panging sensation throughout his midsection, where he could just barely make out dark purple contusions. The rest of his skin was littered in scratches and bruises, some were deep enough to break skin, hence the dried blood, while others were not as dire (despite the pain).</p><p>He would live and Tony wasn’t sure whether he dreaded coming to that conclusion or was grateful of it.</p><p>Next, he checks Morgan, who was still very much out of it. The first thing he examines is the white bandage around her head where she had obviously hit it during the accident. The sight of the dried blood as he carefully lifted the head bandage made him slightly nauseous, along with the sight of the various bruises and scars left behind, some bright pink, while others were a darker shade of blue.</p><p>Tony swallowed thickly as the pads of his fingers carefully traced her skin that felt rather cool underneath his fingertips and he wondered if she was in any pain. Judging by the peaceful expression on her face as she lies unconscious, he assumed not. He hoped to God not.</p><p>Although he knew that she must’ve hit her head pretty hard if she had yet to awaken, he hoped that she had not been in a coma and that she would awaken sooner rather than later.</p><p>Tony then examines her cast on her left arm that was the same color as his. It didn’t appear to be broken, but Tony couldn’t be sure. He would have to ask her about it once she came to.</p><p>Other than her head and arm, Morgan appeared semi-decent. She could’ve been in a worse condition than she was, no matter how bad things looked at the moment to Tony’s prying eyes.</p><p>He leans down and presses a kiss to his daughter’s cheek before eventually settling back down onto the mattress, staring up at the low-rise ceiling above, at the dangling red bulbs that continued to twitch and flicker.</p><p>He shivered a bit when he felt a sudden chill against his naked skin and wishes he had a blanket and clothes at least. He could not understand why they — whomever <em>they</em> were — had left he and his daughter without any clothes to wear, like they were animals that were undeserving of such an amenity.</p><p>Tony grits his teeth at the thought. Why had this happened to them? Who had put them here? Tony can admit that he had built quite a résumé of enemies over the years, people that might’ve had it out for him. But he could not, for the life of him, think of anyone who would be capable of something <em>this</em> depraved.</p><p>Obviously, whoever had done this had planned this out, all the way down to the gritty details of the car accident. The last thing he remembered is a black van heading straight towards them before he blacked out. Of course he had not been fortunate enough to make out any distinct faces, but it was apparent that the accident was done purposely.</p><p>Tony didn’t understand why this was happening; all he knew was that he had to find a way out of this shithole, with him and his daughter’s life in-tact and in one piece.</p><p>He owed Morgan at least that much.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 2. Let The Flames Begin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>“What a shame we all became such fragile, broken things<br/>A memory remains, just a tiny spark<br/>Somewhere weakness is our strength, and I’ll die searching for it<br/>I can’t let myself regret, such selfishness<br/>My pain and all the trouble caused<br/>I believe that there’s hope<br/>Buried beneath it all and<br/>Hiding beneath it all and<br/>Growing beneath it all”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let the flames of complete and utter madness begin...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Uh…”</p><p>Tony whips around so fast it gives him vertigo and makes him nearly tumble over to the floor if he hadn’t a firm grip on the wall behind him.</p><p>He’d been in the middle of trying to get himself to properly stand, using the concrete walls for assistance when he’d seen his daughter, finally, coming to, with a shaky hand placed atop of her head and a frightened expression painted across her youthful, cherubic face.</p><p>“Morgan!” Tony calls, voice still very much gruff and hoarse as he rushes over to her (well, more like hops because he could barely put the slightest bit of weight on his ankle without a searing pain shooting up his calf as a result). “Morgan, honey, you’re awake!”</p><p>“Ugh…” she murmurs, struggling to sit up, wincing as she does so. “Ow…”</p><p>“Morgan,” Tony says, crawling back onto the mattress and reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder causing her to flinch away from his touch in unadulterated horror. “Morgan, it’s okay honey, it’s only me.”</p><p>“…Dad?”</p><p>She blinks a couple times, rubbing at her eyes in a bewildered manner, disoriented probably, until eventually; their eyes lock with one another and her eyes widen in shock and disbelief.</p><p>“Dad!”</p><p>Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes, dripping from her lashes and staining her cheeks — her bruised cheeks — and all Tony has the strength to do is pull his daughter into a bear hug (careful of her injuries of course) to which she accepts, weakly wrapping her smaller arms around his frail form.</p><p>“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re awake.” He laments, running shaking fingers through her lengthy brown hair that still felt soft, but matted against the pads of fingertips. “…How’re you feeling?”</p><p>“My head feels like someone took a brick to it — <em>repeatedly</em>.” She grumbles, visibly anguished. “And my arm… my arm is really sore.”</p><p>“Is that all?”</p><p>“For the most part, yeah,” she replies, rubbing at the cast on her arm. “What happened? Where are we?”</p><p>“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” He sighs exasperatedly. “I’ve searched this entire room from top to bottom and haven’t found anything.”</p><p>“…What do they plan on doing to us?” Morgan asks and he could sense the fear in her tone of voice, shaky and uncertain, and he hates it. God he hates it.</p><p>“I don’t know…” Tony whispers out dejectedly as he casts his eyes down onto the discolored mattress they reside on that’d obviously seen better days. “…I just hope I’ll be able to find us a way out of here before it comes to that.”</p><p>Eventually, it grows quiet between them, a deafening silence, and when he turns to face her again, she’s fidgeting and when she seems to realize his eyes are on her, she draws her knees up to her chest, almost self-consciously.</p><p>Tony frowns in confusion at her odd behavior.</p><p>“What is it? What’s wrong?”</p><p>Morgan shakes her head, wrapping her arms around her legs, suddenly avoiding eye contact.</p><p>“Nothing,” she obviously lies, which, admittedly, annoys Tony — <em>a lot</em>.</p><p>“Morgan,” Tony sighs. “Come on now, if we’re going to get out of here in one piece, we’re going to need to trust one another and have open ends of communication between us — no secrets. Without those two things, it’s going to make breaking out of here much more difficult than it needs to be.”</p><p>Morgan gazes at him, skeptical and hesitant, and he eyes her with a pointed look before eventually, she lets out an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“It’s just…” she trails off, as if she was struggling to find the right words. She bites her lip, still very much avoiding eye contact. “…I guess I’m just embarrassed.”</p><p>“What? Why?” Tony asks, genuinely perplexed by his daughter’s disposition.</p><p>“I thought it was obvious…”</p><p>Tony frowns, still as clueless as ever, until she lets out an annoyed huff and gestures between them.</p><p>“We’re naked, dad! Without anything to cover ourselves with and it’s… it’s just…”</p><p>And it clicks for Tony then and it prompts him to subconsciously cover himself up (as best as he possibly could) because, well, it wasn’t like he’d forgotten about the fact that they were left buck naked and destitute in a room painted red with nothing but a mattress and their agonizing thoughts, but his mind had a gazillion and one thoughts running through it a mile a minute and truthfully, the state of their nudity had momentarily slipped his mind.</p><p>Now though, he sort of wishes Morgan hadn’t brought more attention to it because it only made things slightly awkward between them.</p><p>“I know we have more important things to worry about right now other than clothes, but—”</p><p>“Clothes would be a hell of lot more convenient and less awkward of course.”</p><p>Morgan lets out a reluctant giggle in response, immediately easing a bit of the awkward tension in the air, and Tony smiles, halfheartedly.</p><p>He then reaches a hand out to touch the soft brown wavy locks of hair pooling at her shoulders.</p><p>“Try not to think about it. The more you agonize about it, the worse it will be for you. Trust me.”</p><p>“I’ll try… but it’s kind of hard not to.”</p><p>“Your hair is a tangled mess Morgie,” he murmurs, expertly switching subjects in order to avoid another bout of awkward silence.</p><p>Morgan then turns her eyes and attention to the mess of brown hair that rest past her shoulders.</p><p>“It’s because of the blood…” she says, reaching a hand out to touch the big white bandage on her head, wincing a bit in response. “It’s going to take me forever to get the knots out.”</p><p>A thought comes to Tony and he smiles, for the second time he awakened in this shithole, and carefully repositions himself, lying flat on his back against the mattress.</p><p>“C’mere…”</p><p>Morgan turns to look at him, bewildered.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Lie down and turn your back towards me.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Just do it.”</p><p>Morgan offers him a puzzled expression before she eventually obeys and lies down against the mattress beside him and turns her back towards him, causing her wavy brown strands to pool half-way down her back.</p><p>That is when Tony begins to thread his fingers through her hair with gentleness and precision that could only lead one to believe he’d done this before — which he had — all the time when Morgan was little. It wasn’t as dreadful as he anticipated it to be, but quite relaxing and therapeutic for him.</p><p>Pepper would sometimes tease him for it, but overall, she found it rather endearing. Morgan seemed to always look forward to it. He could recall all of those times she practically dragged him out of bed before school, to attend play dates with fellow schoolmates, or simply because she desired for him to style her hair.</p><p>It lasted all the way up until Morgan began attending junior high, then all of a sudden, she became too “cool” to allow her father to style her hair anymore and wanted to start doing it herself, which Tony held no issue with, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t missed the routine of it and the sense of peace that came with it, along with being able to bond with his daughter in a way he hadn’t before.</p><p>Tony hated that it had to be under these types of circumstances for them to return back to the long ago abandoned routine, but he admits that it did somewhat lift his spirits, if only a little bit.</p><p>“…I missed this.” Morgan murmurs, breaking the comfortable silence between them.</p><p>Tony offers up a ghost of a smile as he takes his time to detangle each strand of hair that had become tangled together due to the mixture of blood and sweat.</p><p>“Me too Morgie,” Tony replies softly, relaxed. “Me too…”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan awakens to a brief clicking sound.</p><p>She blinks her eyes open, several times, until they gradually adjusted to the dim red glow of the room.</p><p>Immediately, her head feels like it’s on fire and she can already feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on, causing a sound of displeasure to slip past her lips.</p><p>She turns her head to the side when she hears the slight snores of her father beside her, completely knocked out.</p><p>She stares at her father for a moment while he slept. Despite their circumstances, he looked every bit at peace, which in turn brought her a sense of comfort.</p><p>She tries not to look at the bruises that marked his skin, but she does anyway, the contusions across his chest, midsection and hip bones that jutted out against the skin.</p><p>When her eyes began to travel further down his body, below his waist, she quickly scolds herself for attempting to do so and looks away immediately, ashamed. She does not even want to ponder on where her eyes were about to land and for why.</p><p>Instead, her eyes focus on the middle of the room, which was rather small and only made the cup perched at the corner of the room filled with a clear substance stand out even more. Next to it appeared to be a plate with a slice of bread, which made her stomach growl.</p><p>Her first instinct is to go towards what she sees, but the warmth of her father’s body beside her is what keeps her frozen in her position, hesitant, and debating on whether she should awaken her father or not.</p><p>In the end, her fears reign supreme and she finds herself gently shaking her father awake.</p><p>“Dad,” she whispers, tapping a finger to his hairy chest. “Daddy…”</p><p>Her father takes a minute to fully come to; eyelashes fluttering as he slowly began to stir.</p><p>“…Morgan?” He frowns, grunting a bit as he struggles to sit up. “Morgan, what’s wrong?”</p><p>She points in the direction of the glass and plate sitting on the concrete floor across the room. He narrows his eyes, sitting up completely with a bewildered look on his tired face, marked by scratches across his cheek and neck. He turns to face her.</p><p>“Please tell me you saw who put that there?”</p><p>“No. I awakened to a clicking sound and boom, there it was.”</p><p>Simultaneously, they turn their eyes back to the objects with suspicion, well, her father’s did. Morgan’s hunger and thirst is what ultimately led to her cautiously crawling off the mattress, immediately catching her father’s attention as he whipped his head around to look at her that would have been hilarious to Morgan had her father not been dead ass serious.</p><p>“Morgan, what are you doing?”</p><p>“I wanna see what it is.”</p><p>“Morgan, wait—”</p><p>“Dad, it’s okay, it looks like it’s just a plastic cup of water and a loaf of bread.”</p><p>“Don’t drink or eat anything.” He warns. “We don’t know what they could’ve put in it.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“No. We’re not eating or drinking anything they — whoever the hell they are — give us. It could be poisoned for all we know.” He shakes his head as she moves to protest. “Nope, we’re not taking that chance.”</p><p>“What’re we going to eat then? We will become dehydrated or starve to death—”</p><p>“We won’t be here long enough for it to come to that.”</p><p>“How do you know that?”</p><p>“Because I just <em>do</em> Morgan,” her father replies in a tone that indicated he was becoming irritated.</p><p>“You can’t guarantee that,” she replies, snippy. “We could be stuck in this hellhole forever and—”</p><p>“<em>Morgan!</em>”</p><p>His voice reverberates throughout the tiny room, startling her into abrupt silence as she presses her back against the wall behind her, feeling the coolness of concrete against her skin and it made her nearly flinch away in response.</p><p>“Please…” her father says, breaking the brief silence between them in a voice that was hoarse in tone and uncharacteristically weary. “…Please, just... stop talking.”</p><p>And so, she does just that, she stops talking, she remains silent, even as her father eventually beckons her over. She doesn’t respond. She ignores him and instead crawls over to the other side of the room and curls up into the small corner and in a fetal position. She stays that way until her eyelids feel heavy again and the aching of her head doesn’t feel as intense and as if it’s about to fall off her body any second, and she succumbs to her exhaustion.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan dreams when she sleeps, dreams of being home again, in her big comfy bed, about the last time she’d seen her mother, or her uncle James, dreams of her friends, of school — but most of all; she dreams of Miles, the boy she had been secretly dating without her father’s knowledge, even if she felt her father might’ve suspected it.</p><p>Miles Camarillo, the seventeen-year old boy she’d been seeing for the past three months in secret. All those times she’d told her parents she was out spending time with her friends when in reality, she was out with him, riding around on the back of his motorcycle or sneaking behind school bleachers to make out.</p><p>Morgan had often felt like shit for lying to her parents and disobeying them. After all, she never gave them reason to be distrustful of her, so they never suspected that she could be doing what she’d actually been doing for all this time.</p><p>However, whenever she would see Miles, that breathtaking smile, those wide green eyes that always seemed to pierce into her very being with an intensity that made her feel naked, his jet black hair and brown complexion, it would make it <em>that</em> much harder for her to feel bad for sneaking around.</p><p>Miles was gorgeous and she would be a fool to turn him away, especially when he’d been the one that pursued her. Out of all the beautiful girls at her school, he wanted her and although Morgan never considered herself to be unattractive or outright hideous, she definitely wasn’t on the same level as many of the girls at her school where looks were concerned.</p><p>Miles disagreed and felt she’d been amongst one of the more beautiful girls with brains and intellect. He’d told her that plenty of times and she didn’t know why she always found it baffling coming from a guy like Miles, who could’ve been a male model in another life.</p><p>Although they had not been going together for very long — only three months — she knew she’d fallen hard for this boy, harder than she ever had for any boy that sauntered into her life (which was few and far between). Miles was one of a kind. He was smart, shared similar interests as her (so similar, it was almost scary). He was also charming, sweet and a complete gentleman.</p><p>Miles had been so disheartened to find out their relationship would have to remain a secret. Truthfully, it was the only way it would work and he accepted it, because it’d been the only other way he could have her.</p><p>It wasn’t ideal of course, no couple wants to do anything in secrecy, but Morgan was happy and as far as she knew, he was too, despite their unfortunate circumstances.</p><p>She misses him.</p><p>She dreams of him, dreams of his warm hugs and sweet kisses, she dreams of his lips, his hair, his eyes and the way his soft skin felt pressed against hers.</p><p>They never had sex, never made it past second base, and only touched one another. Morgan dreams about the pleasure she felt at the feel of Miles’ large hand pressed against her belly, the way he would tease her breasts through her bra, and how she would let him slip his hand underneath her skirt and play with the waistband of her underwear.</p><p>It was lighthearted teasing, but it was enough to make Morgan curious. Curious in a way she never had been before.</p><p>And she began to think about Miles, fantasize about what sex would be like with him. Although she had been nowhere near ready for sex yet, the thought was there, lingering and omnipresent.</p><p>“Morgan…” she hears her father whisper from behind her on the mattress, startling her awake from her nap. “Morgan, are you awake?”</p><p>She purposely keeps her eyes closed and doesn’t respond.</p><p>He sighs.</p><p>“How long are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment? I’m sorry for chewing your head off like that. I was just frustrated. This entire situation is just…” he pauses and it’s so quiet, Morgan swears she could hear the sound of her heart pounding against her chest. “…I won’t survive this without you Morgie… I need my daughter now more than ever.”</p><p>Silence ensues yet again and still, Morgan remains quiet. She can hear him shift a bit behind her, before he lets out a raspy sigh.</p><p>“…I know I don’t say it as often as I should, but I love you Morgie, so much it scares me sometimes. You’ll never truly know how much you mean to me.”</p><p>She doesn’t move until she hears the soft snores from her father behind her.</p><p>Slowly, she turns to face him and just as she expected, he’s asleep.</p><p>Reaching a hand out, she brushes a shaky hand across the side of his face and leans in to kiss his cheek.</p><p>“I love you too,” she whispers out, before resting her head onto his hairy chest and falling asleep to the soothing sound of her father’s heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan is thrust awake so quickly and so violently, it causes a startled sound to escape past her lips as she feels herself being dragged off the mattress she resided on by the ends of her hair.</p><p>She screams, so loud it makes the back of her throat burn incessantly and a sense of vertigo overcome her, making the weight in her head feel even heavier.</p><p>Suddenly, there is a large knife to her throat, silencing her immediately as tears prickled at her eyes, blurring her vision as she comes face to face with a person who donned a plain black mask without holes for the eyes or mouth.</p><p>“Scream again and I will slit your throat.” A dark, threatening voice utters out through the mask. It sounded so angry and malicious. Morgan had never heard such blatant malevolence in a person’s voice before. It caused goosebumps to form on her naked skin that suddenly felt cold and tingly.</p><p>She thinks she hears her father shout something, she could not decipher what it was in that moment, she was too frightened to do anything other than tremble underneath the sharp knife pressed dangerously close to her throat, nearly breaking skin.</p><p>What startles her is the sound of her father’s screams as he falls to the floor with an audible <em>crack</em> as human bone connects with concrete.</p><p>“You do what you’re told and you’re old man might survive.” The voice smirks in a thick foreign accent, perhaps Puerto Rican, if Morgan had to guess. “You determine whether he will make it through tonight or not.”</p><p>“Please,” she whines out as the tears began to fall. “Please don’t hurt us!”</p><p>Another masked man was in the room, pummeling her father’s face into the concrete and she screamed, arising from her knees towards her father, but the unknown assailant yanks her back to him, forcing her down on her knees and wrapping a gloved hand around her throat, causing her to let out an audible gasp in response.</p><p>“You do that again and I will strangle you myself.”</p><p>He then drags the large knife across her chest, all the way down to her belly button, pressing the sharp tip against the skin, causing her to whimper in response.</p><p>“Be a good girl and this won’t have to end in a bloody massacre. Understood?”</p><p>She nods, just barely, and he lets go of the vice-like grip he had on her neck and she coughs, tears stinging at the corner of her eyes as the back of her head throbs.</p><p>“Just don’t hurt him.” She begs. “Please…”</p><p>The man doesn’t respond, only begins to unbuckle the belt of his pants. She turns her eyes over to her father and he’s struggling to be freed from the grip the muscular man had on him, even while beaten, battered and bruised. The sight of him frightens her because she’d never seen him look this way before — a deadly anger in his eyes, animalistic in nature, and licensed to kill.</p><p>“Don’t you fucking touch her, you filthy piece of shit.” Tony spits out venomously.</p><p>The masked man only laughs — tauntingly, derisively, mockingly.</p><p>“Upset, are we? That’s too bad. And here I was, thinking I was doing you a favor by giving you a peep into the private show of me face fucking your daughter’s brains out.”</p><p>Just then, the masked man slides his pants and underwear down, all the way to his knees and grabs a fist full of Morgan’s hair, forcing her face into his groin.</p><p>She begins to cry in response, while the masked man laughs, and her father screams, fighting even harder to free himself. God he tried. She knew he did. And she loved her father even more for it, even as she felt something inside her break into a tiny million pieces as the man forced his rigid flesh inside her mouth.</p><p>Morgan supposes that she could have fought harder than she did, prevented this from happening somehow and saved herself and her father the shame and humiliation this would entail.</p><p>She would always blame herself for why she did not do more and she figures it was that very moment where the man above her begins thrusting himself inside her mouth, giving less than a solitary fuck that she was choking, that her throat was burning, that tears came crashing down her cheeks like waterfalls, that a part of her was dying inside as he got his jollies off as her father watched his own daughter be desecrated before him, his precious baby girl defiled and destroyed indefinitely.</p><p>She didn’t want her father to see her like this. She wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole when she heard the sounds her father made, still fighting to be freed, to save and protect her.</p><p>But it was too late. The damage was done. And she had a sneaking suspicion that deep down, he knew it too, knew, perhaps, that he’d lost a piece of her that he’d never get back again, knew that she would never be the same and it crushed him. She knew it did and it would haunt her father for the rest of his days, just as it would haunt and taunt her, long after this was over.</p><p>The man makes loud, obnoxious sounds as he continues using her mouth for his source of depraved pleasure. The grip he has on her hair is painful and only causes more tears to spring to her eyes, dripping, until there are no more tears left to cry.</p><p>She feels tempted to bite down on the flesh that assaults her repeatedly, but she’s too scared to do anything but remain on her knees, stiff as a statue, willing for this to be over and done with.</p><p>“That wet little mouth feels so spectacular wrapped around my cock. I would’ve never believed you to be a newbie. A fucking pro is what you are angel face.”</p><p>His voice is grating to her ears and she tries her best to tune him out, to think about something other than the taste of him in her mouth, the smell of whatever shitty cologne he wore, or how the throb at the back of her head only increased the harder his gloved hands tugged and pulled at her hair, digging into her scalp and ripping off the bandage on her head covered with dried blood.</p><p>She thinks she’s going to vomit when she suddenly feels something gooey and acidic spritz to the back of her throat. She tries to move away, but he doesn’t let her, he growls and threatens her with brutal violence if she dares to move or put up a fight.</p><p>“Take my seed angel face and <em>swallow it</em>.”</p><p>It dribbles down her chin as she struggles to swallow the pungent fluid. He keeps his rigid flesh in her mouth until he eventually softens up and withdraws, stuffing himself back into his pants and tossing her to the side like a rag doll.</p><p>“Goddamn that had to be the best head I’ve received in <em>years</em>. I may have to make this a repeated offense.” He laughs, along with the other masked man who still holds her father in a vice-like grip. “You want a round with her Logan? She’ll blow your mind.”</p><p>“Why not?” The other masked man smirks. “It’s been weeks since I’ve gotten some good head. Amanda’s been holding out on me.”</p><p>“Mamacita still giving you grief?”</p><p>“You know it.” The masked man grumbles and as they’re in the process of switching places, her father takes the opportunity to strike.</p><p>Her father is able to get in quite a few blows despite his weakened and battered state. She wants, more than anything, to get up and help him, to fight alongside him in an attempt to overpower their assailants, but for some reason, she is unable to. Perhaps, somewhere in the darker corners of her mind, she figures that if she was unable to help herself, how the hell would she be able to help her father?</p><p>She was useless. She was weak. She was pathetic.</p><p>Morgan cries out when she watches the two masked men force her father to the ground and simultaneously assault him with kicks to his head, his ribs and legs.</p><p>And the only way she can think of protecting her father is by throwing herself into the Lion’s den.</p><p>“Please don’t hurt him anymore. I’ll do whatever you want!”</p><p>Both men look her way, pausing in their brutal assault of her father. She’s relieved when one of them moves away from her father, the muscular one, and saunters over to her. Immediately, she reaches for the belt buckle of his pants with shaky fingers and he doesn’t stop her from undressing him from the waist down. She trembles when she feels that cold blade caress the skin of her neck.</p><p>“Morgan, don’t,” she hears her father warn as he coughs up blood, but she proceeds forward anyway, ignoring his protests.</p><p>This was the only way she could protect her father. They wouldn’t stop unless she did what they wanted. And if it saved her father’s life in the end, she would do it, no questions asked, because he was her father and she loved him and when you love someone, you do what needs to be done to protect them and keep them safe, even if the process wasn’t pretty. Her father had told her that once.</p><p>This time around wasn’t much better than the first, wasn’t any less traumatizing, any less dehumanizing for her, and of course, another aspect of her withered away with every thrust of rigid flesh to the back of her throat. Though, she did not cry like she did the first time.</p><p>When it was over, when the masked man had finally reached completion, she was forced to swallow his cum and it was just as nauseating as it was the first time.</p><p>But it was worth it when he finally let her go, finally left her and her father be, disappearing into thin air or exiting out a secret door, Morgan couldn’t be 100% sure nor did she care, she just wanted them gone, wanted them dead, wanted out of this room, out of this hellhole.</p><p>But, if she hadn’t known before, she certainly knew now that things did not always work the way one desperately wanted them to.</p><p>Morgan was immediately at her father’s side, easing his head onto her lap and she could see grief on his face — bruised and battered it was — the anger, the hurt and the bitterness. She couldn’t honestly say for certain whether or not it was directed at her or the situation. It was probably a combination of both.</p><p>“…Why?” is all her father manages to utter out, voice hoarse and raw — a juxtaposition of emotions all wrapped into one word, before he passes out.</p><p>And that is when she allows herself to break down in tears, so hard her body nearly shook, the large droplets falling onto her father’s face, and she holds onto his unconscious form for dear life, until she too, is overcome with the unpleasant pain of her head that still throbbed and ached, and her body slumps to the ground, eventually succumbing to her own drowsiness and exhaustion yet again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 3. bodyache</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>“I wanna stare at the tears, how they water your years<br/>You sweat, and you bled<br/>I couldn’t look cause your body would shake<br/>And you feared a lonely death<br/>Like a lake leaves you alone in her depths<br/>I wanna know what’s your quietest feeling<br/>Saw you unreeling<br/>I lied, now I’m lying awake<br/>I cried ‘til my body ache”<em></em></em>
  </p>
</blockquote>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“I know this isn’t easy—”</p><p>“Detective Bailey, please,” Pepper interjects in a grim tone of voice as she leers at the woman before her sitting behind a large office desk. “I…I just need to know whether the bodies of my husband and daughter have been recovered yet. I need to get started on planning the funerals.”</p><p>Pepper’s voice gives out and she closes her eyes, in attempt to keep her emotions in check. She’d already done enough crying for the past two days and she was so tired, raw and numb. She felt as if she was in the twilight zone. None of this felt real. She didn’t want it to be real. She wasn’t ready to accept her new reality. It hurt too much. All she’d wanted to do was crawl into her bed and drink herself into a stupor, which was saying a lot considering the fact that she’d never been much of drinker to begin with.</p><p>But, she no longer had her husband anymore — her rock, her soulmate, her everything. She would never get to renew her vows with Tony like they’d always planned to do. And she’d never see her daughter again or her beautiful smile, never see her graduate high school or college, a life taken much too early and too soon. All of it was stolen from her, snatched away so brutally and abruptly.</p><p>Pepper startles when she feels a hand on her wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She finds James’ concerned, warm brown eyes on her and almost immediately, she feels that sense of calmness and ease pass through her and she finds herself taking a deep breath, briefly closing her eyes before turning back to face the detective who began to speak again.</p><p>“We have yet to recover their bodies Mrs. Stark—”</p><p>“Call me Pepper.”</p><p>“Pepper, we’ve been searching nonstop and we’ve come across very little evidence that supports the theory that they could have been ejected from the vehicle.”</p><p>“So what are you saying?” James asks with annoyance thick in his tone as he leans forward from his seat behind the desk alongside her. “We were told that footage would be recovered from the day of the accident—”</p><p>“The thing is,” Detective Bailey sighs, “we <em>have</em> recovered the footage for that day, but it appears as if it has been tampered with.”</p><p>“What do mean ‘tampered’ with?” Pepper asks, visibly confused.</p><p>“Perhaps it would be easier to understand if I showed you what I mean rather than tell you.”</p><p>The detective begins to type something on her keyboard. Pepper turns to glance at James who appears just as perplexed as she. She gives his hand a squeeze and he offers her a slight smile before turning back to the detective who turned the computer around to face them.</p><p>On the large screen was a paused, pixel image of what appeared to be a familiar looking cherry red SUV. The timestamp read as the following:</p><p>
  <em><strong>SATURDAY</strong> </em>
  <br/>
  <em> <b>20 FEBRUARY 2018</b> </em>
  <br/>
  <em> <strong>2:45 PM</strong></em>
</p><p>Detective Bailey points to the familiar red utility vehicle on the screen.</p><p>“Here, we have identified the vehicle your husband and daughter were in at approximately 2:43 PM at the Emerald Hill intersection at a red traffic light for about a minute and a half. Just as the light turned green and your husband pulled out, we see an unknown unmarked vehicle run straight through the traffic light coming from the opposite direction at full speed. However, just as the vehicles collide, the footage cuts out completely and skips a whole five minutes to when the ambulance arrives. Now, although there tends to be the occasional glitches within the surveillance cameras, <em>this</em> is not <em>that</em>. It’s obvious something quite crucial was purposely omitted from the footage.”</p><p>Detective Bailey then clicks a button on the keyboard and suddenly, the fuzzy image begins to play. Pepper leans forward along with James and watch the last moments of her husband and daughter’s life, watches as the cherry red SUV pulls out onto the intersection and within half a second, the cherry red SUV becomes pummeled by a black van before the footage, much like the detective said it would, cuts out and switches to the ambulance arriving on the scene.</p><p>Detective Bailey cuts it off and turns the computer away and back to its original place.</p><p>“Perhaps, whatever it was that was omitted, will help us figure out what exactly happened to your husband and daughter.”</p><p>“So what is this supposed to prove? That they disappeared into thin air?” Pepper snaps.</p><p>“No, but we have reason to believe that whomever occupied that black van has something to do with the murder and/or disappearance of your husband and daughter. It was clearly a hit and run and since we have been unable to track down the owners of that vehicle or their license plate number, the next step would be to assume that accident was intentional and possibly premeditated.”</p><p>“So what does that mean for us?”</p><p>“It means that we’re opening up a possible murder investigation on your case and put out a nationwide Amber Alert in your daughter’s name. Perhaps there were witnesses that may have seen or heard something that have yet to come forward.”</p><p>“Oh my God…” Pepper murmurs, placing a hand over her mouth. James reaches up and squeezes her arm as it began to slowly tremble.</p><p>“I have to ask, is there anyone you’re aware of that might’ve harbored a vendetta against your husband or daughter? Someone you think had motive to kill them or abduct them or harm them in any way?”</p><p>Pepper shook her head.</p><p>“No, no, I don’t — I don’t know anyone who could do something like this to Tony or Morgan. Everybody loved them. I just…”</p><p>“We’re going to need a comprehensive list of all of your daughter's friends, boyfriends, teachers, along with your husband’s colleagues and friends.”</p><p>Pepper nods.</p><p>“And Pepper, I want you to know that we plan on taking this investigation seriously and we’re going to find who did this your family, one way or another.”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“I can stay if you want,” James says, moments after he cuts off the engine of his car that was parked in the driveway of the Stark household.</p><p>James looks over at Pepper, but she’s turned away from him, her eyes glued outside the car window, still as a statue.</p><p>James reaches a hand out and she startles only momentarily, before she slowly tears her eyes away from the window and over onto him, her hand covering his, squeezing tightly.</p><p>“…How will I survive without them?” She asks, in a tone that nearly tears his heart in two. “How will I ever be able to go on, knowing they could be out there somewhere dead or alive?”</p><p>“They’ll find them—”</p><p>“What if they don’t? What if they never do?”</p><p>“You can’t think like that Pepper, you have to have faith. I know it’s hard but—”</p><p>“I’m not strong enough James. I don’t have the strength to handle this. I… I just… I can’t.”</p><p>Pepper breaks down in tears, covering her face with her hands, prompting James to lean over, as best as he could, and pull her in for hug to which she gladly accepts.</p><p>James fights back the lump in his throat as Pepper sobs into his shoulder. He’d barely been holding it together these past two days after finding out that his best friend and niece were dead. Now, there’s a chance they could’ve been abducted and murdered.</p><p>Thinking back on that tape Detective Bailey showed them back at the station, the black van that rammed into Tony’s SUV definitely appeared as if it was every bit of intentional. There was no doubt in James’ mind that was the case. What baffled him was the fact that he couldn’t come up with a single entity that could despise Tony or Morgan<em> this</em> much.</p><p>James had been rather close to his niece and he hadn’t been made aware that there could be somebody that wanted her dead. James had known that Morgan had been dating a boy in secret. She made him promise not to tell Tony or Pepper and James agreed, but only if she had the intentions on telling them about her relationship. Morgan promised that she would and he trusted her.</p><p>Still, James’ mind went blank at the thought of anyone having a motive or desire to hurt his little niece. Maybe it was James’ naiveté and bias towards the situation, but it still wasn’t adding up for him.</p><p>Tony, on the other hand, could have possibly had people out there that wanted him dead. Tony had the type of personality that many would either love and adore or absolutely hate and despise. There was no in between.</p><p>James had known that there had been quite a few people that Tony had pissed off in the past and yet, not one person came to mind.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Pepper sniffled, pulling away a bit as she wiped at her eyes that were now puffy and red-rimmed.</p><p>“Don’t be,” James replies, handing her a napkin from his glove department. “This is a lot to deal with in such a short span of time. Give yourself a bit of credit here; you’re doing the best you can considering the gravity of the situation.”</p><p>Pepper sniffles again and nods.</p><p>“It would be nice if you could stay, but if you can’t, I understand—”</p><p>“Let’s go,” James smiles, warm and halfheartedly as he unlocks his car doors. “Do you want me to cook this time or you?”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Tony awakens, groggy and befuddled.</p><p>Immediately, the searing headache at the back of his head makes itself known as he slowly begins to come to, eyes blinking about, seeing spots and visions of red from the glow of the room.</p><p>It was only then that he realizes he could only open one eye — his right eye. The other one was painfully swollen shut. He tries to move, but is overcome with sharp stabs of unadulterated pain throughout his body, evoking a sorrowful groan from his throat as he does so.</p><p>“Don’t move; it’ll make you feel worse.”</p><p>Tony pauses at the familiar voice and it is only then that he realizes he is not on that tattered mattress, but in the arms and lap of his daughter, who hovers above him, long brown hair hanging down to brush against his torso, tickling his skin every time she moves her head.</p><p>She’s using a small wet towel to gently dab at the visible wounds on his bruised and battered form, rinsing the small towel of blood in a bucket full of lukewarm water.</p><p>From what Tony could see; Morgan did not possess any recognizable wounds or bruises other than the cast on her arm, along with a few minor scratches and bruises from the accident, which he was grateful for. He’d much rather be in this position than her, no matter how badly it hurt.</p><p>“Here, these might help.” Morgan whispers, handing him two ivory tablets.</p><p>Tony frowns.</p><p>“…Where’d you get these?” The sound of his voice nearly startles him. It didn’t sound like himself at all. It sounded hoarse, guttural and raspy. It was rather jarring.</p><p>“It’s ibuprofen. It’ll help with the pain.”</p><p>“Where’d you get them?” Tony presses, despite how painful it was to even speak.</p><p>“Dad, please,” Morgan sighs. “Just take them.”</p><p>“No, not until you tell me where you got them—”</p><p>“I got it from them.” She interjects, in an annoyed tone of voice. “They gave them to me.”</p><p>He knows exactly who his daughter was referring to and it was as if his blood had run cold as the memories came flooding back to him in that instant.</p><p>He swallows thickly.</p><p>“…They came back?”</p><p>“Yes,” Morgan replies, gently dabbing at the deep contusions at the lower area of his abdomen before drenching the towel into the nearby bucket. “They came back while you were passed out. I asked them for pain medication for when you awakened, because I knew how much pain you would be in when you finally came to, and they… they gave them to me.”</p><p>Something tightens within the very depths of his core, something unpleasant, something uneasy, and he feels himself clenching his fists in response, briefly closing his eye and opening it to gaze up at Morgan.</p><p>“…Did they—?”</p><p>“Please don’t ask,” she replies, in a sad and gentle tone as she momentarily pauses in her movements.</p><p>And something inside him breaks, painfully so, because that was all the answer he needed. Tears prick at the corner of his eye, dripping down his cheek, making the scratches on his face sting a bit in response.</p><p>“Morgan,” he breathes out, shakily. “Morgan you shouldn’t have done that.”</p><p>“Dad, they were going to kill you if I hadn’t of stepped in. They weren’t going to stop. I had to protect you—”</p><p>“I was fine!” He exclaims and it’s <em>so</em> painful to yell, it causes a sharp pain to throb in his chest and midsection. “I’m the adult Morgan. I’m your father. I can protect myself and I can protect you. You shouldn’t have stepped in, you shouldn’t have—”</p><p>“But you couldn’t protect me, dad, not in that moment at least. You and I both know that if I didn’t do what I did, you’d be dead right now and there’s no chance in hell I could’ve let that happen. I wouldn’t survive this hellhole without you…”</p><p>Morgan’s words sting, worse than the bruises that marked his body ever could, and he’s never felt as useless and pathetic as he did in that moment, angry and powerless.</p><p>“…It’s like you said before, we’re a team. I would’ve never allowed something like that to continue. You should know that and I would do it again if it meant that I’d have you just like this — alive and semi-decent.” She chuckles a bit, dragging the wet towel across his chest as more tears well up in his eye. “I’m a tough cookie dad; it’s going to take more than that to break me.”</p><p>Tony begins to sob, letting out small whimpers and hiccups from the back of his throat as he does so, and all his daughter does is lean down to leave small, affectionate kisses to his face and he can admit that the act is soothing, even if he still feels like the scum of the earth.</p><p>“Please don’t cry…” she whispers, brushing her fingers through his hair that was wet presumably from the wet towel Morgan probably rinsed it with while he was still unconscious. “Please daddy, just take the ibuprofen, I already had one to make sure it wasn’t lethal. It’s actually what they said it was.”</p><p>“And if it wasn’t? You’d be dead right now.”</p><p>“At least you’d still be alive and not dead from my own stupidity.” Morgan shrugs. “Now will you take the ibuprofen or not? I worked hard for you to get it.”</p><p>Tony swallows thickly, feeling something in his belly churn before nodding his approval, which elicited a small smile from his daughter in response.</p><p>“Open your mouth,” she says and he obeys. “And stick your tongue out.”</p><p>She places the small ivory tablets on his tongue and instructs him to swallow, which he does, no matter how painful it was.</p><p>Morgan checks his mouth and when she finds that he’d actually swallowed the disgusting medicine tablets, she presses an appreciative kiss to his cheeks and forehead.</p><p>“You should be feeling better soon. Just close your eyes and relax.”</p><p>And he does, until he ends up falling asleep with his head on his daughter’s lap and his legs sprawled out below him.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Tony awakens again, on the mattress, to the sound of disturbing audible noises.</p><p>He opens his eyes and a part of him wishes he never did, because what he sees would surely haunt him until the day he closed his eyes for the final time.</p><p>Tony finds his daughter, across the small room, on her knees, while a man dressed in black from head to toe, stood before her, shoving his cock inside his daughter’s opened mouth.</p><p>The sight alone causes bile to rush up his esophagus and before Tony knew it, he was vomiting all over himself, attracting the attention of the two before he passes out again.</p><p> </p><p> ~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“…Daddy?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony whips around in his swivel chair to face his nine-year old daughter that stood behind him in a frilly pink ballerina attire, presumably from having returned from her ballot lessons.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes sweetheart?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can I ask you a question?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Anything,” Tony shrugs, moving to turn around again to his worktable.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why don’t you love me?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony visibly freezes, blinking several times, as if to register his daughter’s words, before spinning back around to face his daughter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What did you just say?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why don’t you love me?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony drops his tools to the floor with an audible clank! and moves to where his daughter stood, kneeling before her with an earnest glint in his eyes as he brushes a hand against the side of her face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Morgie, how could you ask me something like that? You know daddy loves you, more than anything—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then why couldn’t you protect me daddy? Why did you let those men do those things to me? You watched them defile me and did nothing to stop it!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony is shocked into silence, eyes widening, and a lump forming in his throat as a result. He shakes his head profusely and pulls Morgan’s small body into his.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, no, no, please no—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You didn’t protect me like you said you would, like you promised. I’ll never forgive you for it. I hate you!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Morgan, please, don’t say that—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I hate you!” Morgan exclaims, pushing him away and pounding her small fists against his chest. “I hate you daddy! I hate you! I hate that I come from you, I hate everything about you, I hate you!”</em>
</p><p>Tony awakens with a start, out of breath, sweaty and hyperventilating.</p><p>Morgan, who had been lying beside him on the tattered mattress, startles awake by his wails.</p><p>“…Dad?” She says, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes before turning them onto him, panicked. “Daddy, it’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.”</p><p>But it wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay. And she hated him, Tony knew it, God he knew it, even if she would never say those words verbatim to his face, he would always know that she resented him for his inability to protect her, for failing her as a father, and not living up to what she expected of him, especially in that moment, when she needed him most.</p><p>“No, no, no, please no, please don’t hate me.” He rambles out, breathless and damn near incoherent. “…I’m sorry, so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry…”</p><p>Morgan holds onto him until he eventually settles down, tears staining his cheeks as his breathing gradually returns to normal, but his wails never quiet down, he continues to loudly sob, not even caring how pathetic he looked and sounded. He was in too much pain to care, both internally and externally.</p><p>And Morgan knows, he could tell by the way she clung to him, pressing gentle kisses to his face, in attempt soothe his apprehension, his anger and his guilt.</p><p>Morgan’s dainty fingers threading through his hair, gently grazing his scalp is what ultimately lulls him back into a dreamless slumber, along with the heat of her body pressed against his aching one and her soft, loving kisses to his bruised skin.</p><p>“…I love you,” he thinks he hears her whisper into his ear, but he cannot be sure.</p><p>He can only hope it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him again. God he truly hoped not.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 4. Point of View</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>“This day, so grey<br/>Betray and decay<br/>Your mind was so blind<br/>You could never understand<br/>My point of view<br/>Despair, beware”<em></em></em>
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    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Since awakening in this hellhole (that Tony and Morgan had now deemed as “The Red Room”), there had never been any sense of the time, days or hour.</p><p>The mornings, days and nights all seem to mesh together as one and it began to feel like one endless day filled with nothing but pure misery, misfortune, self-loathing, loneliness, nightmares, confusion, pain, rage and bitterness.</p><p>Some days (or nights, who really knew at this point) were better than others, brief instances of unadulterated hope that they were going to make it out alive and in one piece no matter what it took, moments where the motivation and self-determination was there.</p><p>But then, there were times where the solitude had begun to get to them, where the optimism and confidence of ever escaping would vanish completely. The hope would lose steam and would soon be replaced with anger and frustration of their circumstances and their inability to formulate a plan to get out of it.</p><p>And it oftentimes led to verbal attacks on one another, purely motivated by the anger and resentment of the situation rather than each other, but it didn’t stop the claws from coming out every so often, because there had been no one else there to take their irritation out on except themselves and each other and they would alternate between lashing out on themselves and each other.</p><p>“...This cast is getting itchy.” Morgan says, sitting across the room with her back against the wall, attempting to wiggle her fingers within any opening she could find.</p><p>“That means it’s healing,” Tony replies from his position on the mattress. He was still sore and his body was still healing from the beating he received from those bastards that he had not seen in quite some time — thank God — but he was beginning to feel a little better than he had before. He could actually move without flinching and he could open his left eye again, though it was still a bit swollen.</p><p>Morgan was a large reason for why that probably was. She took care of him (or as much as she knew how to given their limited resources) by tending to his wounds, toweling him down with lukewarm water, assuaging away his aches and pains with her gentle, caring touch.</p><p>Tony knew he would’ve been worse off if his daughter hadn’t been there by his side and he’s grateful for her, even if he was oftentimes too stubborn to openly admit it.</p><p>“...I wanna take it off.”</p><p>“Go ahead, but if it gets infected, that’s on you.”</p><p>“It won’t get infected.”</p><p>“For your sake, you better hope not.”</p><p>Morgan doesn’t respond, only continues picking at her cast. Tony sighs; rolling his eyes and beckons her over.</p><p>“C’mere…”</p><p>Morgan crawls over to him, onto the mattress and lies beside him, still picking at her cast.</p><p>“Give me your arm.”</p><p>“What’re going to do?”</p><p>“Make sure you don’t further injure yourself,” Tony mutters, gently taking her arm into his hand and examining the cast.</p><p>“You’re becoming such a grumpy old man.” Morgan sneers, nudging her shoulder against his in teasing manner, which elicits a reluctant smile from him in response.</p><p>“I’m going to take it off. Tell me if anything hurts and I’ll stop, okay?”</p><p>Morgan nods and he begins to slowly and carefully reach for the attached proximal end on the cast, freeing her arm from the bulky cast to reveal the extra padding of gauze underneath.</p><p>He sets the cast down on the floor and carefully begins to unravel the gauze stained with dried blood. Immediately, his breath gets caught in his throat at what he sees.</p><p>The sight of torn, puffy flesh carefully held together by stitches, which began at her wrist and ended towards her forearm.</p><p>Tony’s fingertips carefully traced the red, swollen flesh and turned his head to glance at Morgan, who seemed undeterred by it all.</p><p>“…Does it hurt?”</p><p>“A little, but I’ll live.” She shrugs. “…It does feel nice when you touch it like that.”</p><p>“Like what?” Tony asks, frowning.</p><p>“Like <em>that</em>.”</p><p>The pads of Tony’s fingers gently caress the creases of her stitches, which probably relieved a bit of the itching, judging by the way Morgan sighed softly, snuggling up to his side and resting her head on his shoulder in response.</p><p>“…Dad?”</p><p>“Mmm?”</p><p>“…I’m sorry.”</p><p>Tony’s eyebrows furrow in visible confusion as he turns to face her yet again, only then realizing how close they actually were in that moment, practically nose to nose.</p><p>“For yelling at you, for saying those awful things to you and making you feel like this entire situation is somehow your fault when it’s not. I don’t blame you for any of this. I hope you know that.”</p><p>Tony looks away from her, ignoring the way it felt as if holes were being burned into the side of his face from the intensity of her gaze upon him. It didn’t matter how many times she would try and convince him that she didn’t blame him for any of this, he would still believe in his heart of hearts that she did and even on the off chance that she didn’t, he blamed himself. And he harbored enough self-blame for the both of them combined.</p><p>“…Dad? You believe me, don’t you?”</p><p>And the way she asks makes something heavy in his chest sink in displeasure. She sounded so earnest in her desperation for him to take heed to her words and he wanted to believe her, he really did, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.</p><p>“…I’ll try,” is all he can really give her and it’s not much, not exactly what she wants to hear, but it’s something and something was always better than nothing at all.</p><p>“I guess that’s all I can hope for,” she replies as she nuzzles her face into the area between his neck and shoulder and eventually closes her eyes to rest. That was all there really was to do — sleep, talk, argue and sleep again, wash, rinse and repeat. An irksome routine they’d slowly fallen into the longer they remained stuck and trapped in this hellhole, in this wretched red room with no signs or hopes of escape.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“Abuelo, I was told you wanted to see me.”</p><p>The older man turns around to face the young man that stood before him, a warm smile emerging across his lips, forest green eyes gleaming with pride at the sight of his grandson.</p><p>“Mijo! It’s good to see you. Come over here and give your abuelito a hug.”</p><p>“It’s good to see you too,” the young man grins up at the older man as he’s pulled into a bear hug.</p><p>“Miles, my boy, it seems you’ve gotten even more handsome in your time away from the nest. You look just like your mother. I know she’d be so proud of how you turned out; college graduate, PhD in Psychology, minor in engineering and a successful young bachelor all before the age of thirty. You’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. My princess would be crying tears of joy. I just know it.”</p><p>“You think so lito?”</p><p>“Oh, I know so, mijo. You meant everything to her. You’re one of her best and last gifts she gave this world before she left this earth...”</p><p>A brief silence ensues between the two men before the older of the two clears his throat and clasps a hand down on the younger man’s shoulder.</p><p>“Well, mijo, on the brighter side, I wanted to inform you that your grooming of the young girl worked like a charm. Due to the information we were able to acquire from you through her, we had enough to establish a routine and easily locate her and that son of a bitch father of hers. Now, you made sure you covered your tracks by discarding that cellphone you used these past few months to contact her, yes?”</p><p>“Of course lito, it’s somewhere floating at the bottom of the Hudson River by now.” Miles smirks.</p><p>“I’ve taught you well.” The older man beams with unadulterated pride. “I bet you Stark <em>never</em> seen this coming, especially not after all these years, but I vowed to myself and to Isabella that I would make Tony Stark pay for the pain and heartache he’s brought upon this family. The irrevocable damage he’s left behind. He took advantage of your mother and left her high and dry when he finished using her for his crude pleasure and never looked back.” The older man scoffs. “Oh, but he must’ve really taken me for a cowardice fool if he thought I would let him destroy the one person who meant the entire world to me. Now that he has a mija of his own, he will understand what it feels like to watch your whole world crumble right before you, the person you love most defiled and sullied right before his eyes and there will be nothing he can do about it. It’s what that bastard fucking deserves — that and more, of course.”</p><p>“…Where are they now?”</p><p>“In solitary confinement, have been for the past two weeks…” The older man then curls his lips up into a sly smile. “Would you like to take a peek?”</p><p>“After three whole months of dedication to this shit, like hell I would.”</p><p>The older man laughs and nods.</p><p>“Understandable, follow me.”</p><p>Miles follows his grandfather into another room within his large office, a room filled with computers, speakers and monitors.</p><p>And that is when his eyes pause on the sight of the father-daughter duo materializing across the monitors, appearing as if they’d definitely seen and had better days.</p><p>It wasn’t their circumstances that bothered the young man, not even their nudity that revealed their battered and bruised forms, not their captivity or the ill-treatment they’d obviously been subjected to since they’d been captured.</p><p>No, it was the shatterproof bond that he could instantly sense that utterly rattled him to the bone, within the very depths of his core, irked him, angered him and ignited an ancient bitterness that had been instilled in him since he’d been old enough to learn how to spell.</p><p>“Don’t worry mijo, this is only scratching the surface. If they think they’re suffering now, they’ve got a lot more where that came from.” The older man chuckles. “Two weeks in and they’re already crumbling. They’ll be dust by the time we’re through with them.”</p><p>“Is that a promise, Abuelo?” Miles asks, turning to face his grandfather with a quirk of his eyebrow.</p><p>“Bet your bottom dollar it is.”</p><p>“Good,” Miles replies with a sly grin as he turns back to face the monitors where the slumbering duo appears. “…Because I want in.”</p><p>“You sure about that, mijo? You’ve already fulfilled your end of the deal. Besides, you know I’ve already had my people on it—”</p><p>“I’m sure,” he interjects, emerald green eyes never wavering from its target. “This is different. <em>This</em> is personal.”</p><p>The older man nods.</p><p>“Alright, do what you need to do mijo. There are no rules to this game. Anything goes.”</p><p>“…Anything?”</p><p>“Anything.” The older man confirms with a grin that conveys nothing short of dark excitement and anticipation. Miles could already see the wheels turning in his grandfather’s head as he leaned into him, nudging his shoulder with his own. “Whatever happens to that son of a bitch, he has coming to him — all of it. And his daughter? Well, it’s unfortunate but, she’s simply collateral damage in all of this. She’ll be paying for her father’s sins for the rest of her days as a result.”</p><p>“Just like I have been…” Miles mutters out with unadulterated contempt, eyes narrowed as he clenches his jaw.</p><p>Years and years of self-loathing, anger and resentment came bubbling to the surface in that moment, feelings so intense and fierce it initially took the young man by genuine surprise, the kind of homicidal anger that frightened him as well, if only a little. His rage trumped any feelings of remorse he may have felt at the sight before him, of an old and worn out broken man and an equally damaged young girl by his side — his half-sister — both appearing as if they’d been to hell and back.</p><p>And yet, he <em>still</em> could not find a morsel of empathy, of compassion, of understanding of their circumstances. In his mind, they’d brought it upon themselves.</p><p>All he wanted to do was make the man he’d spent most of his life loving and hating suffer, suffer the same way he had, in ways that were immeasurable, for years he would never get back, the same way that bastard made his mother suffer and the same way he would make his precious daughter suffer.</p><p>It was what Tony Stark deserved, anything less than that would be deemed unsatisfactory.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 5. Bring Me to Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“How can you see into my eyes like open doors?<br/>Leading you down into my core, where I’ve become so numb<br/>Without a soul, my spirit’s sleeping somewhere cold<br/>Until you find it there and lead it back home<br/>Call my name and save me from the dark<br/>Save me from the nothing I’ve become<br/>Frozen inside, without your touch, without your love, darling<br/>Only you are the life among the dead<br/>Don’t let me die here<br/>Breathe into me and make me real<br/>Bring me to life”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey peeps! I hope you all are happy, healthy and safe! As a forewarning, this chapter is going to be a rather intense one, so before you proceed forward, you’ve been fairly warned!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The same two masked men continued to visit Morgan, always two at a time, sporadically and without any forewarning to accost her for her “remarkable services” (their words, not hers), and she complied to their demands so that things would not escalate into violence.</p><p>And they forced her father to watch, which she <em>hated</em> more than anything, not only because her father had tried (and failed) to fight them with his fists and his words, but neither was ever enough to keep their grimy hands off of her. She begged her father to stop fighting, pleaded with him, because she would rather die than see her father jumped like before and nursing his battered and bruised body back to semi-health. It honestly frightened her and she would much rather do what they wanted and sucked their repulsive dicks than watch her father’s face get pummeled into the concrete, frightened to death of that one strike that could kill her father instantly.</p><p>But he wouldn’t listen, he would never listen and continued to fight and resist, however no matter how hard her father fought, he was, unfortunately, no match for the two men, as fit and as strong as they were — <em>they</em> as in Logan and Elijah. She’d remembered their names, but ran into difficulty of figuring out which body belonged to whom.</p><p>But, she could tell their dicks apart and she hated that she could, but the assaults were becoming so frequent, she couldn’t help but notice that one was circumcised while the other was not as they forcefully slid past the thresholds of her opened mouth.</p><p>Morgan no longer cried anymore, at least not as much as she once did when the assaults first occurred. She quickly figured out that her cries only spurred her assailants on, aroused them, and excited them, so she made up in her mind that she would no longer give them that satisfaction by giving them the reaction they so often fished for out of her and got off on.</p><p>And Morgan, at some point, had stupidly thought that she was outsmarting her assailants, that<em> this</em> was the worst it could get not only for herself but for her father as well, but she had quickly learned that she couldn’t have been more wrong.</p><p>And unfortunately for her, she didn’t realize this until it was too late, until she was being violently shaken awake and dragged to her feet by two masked men, clad in black from head to toe (as usual) but this time, there was a third one in the cramped room, with a large blade to her father’s throat.</p><p>“My apologies for awaking the sleeping beauties so abruptly, however, unfortunately for you two, there is business to be done and harsh decisions to be made.”</p><p>Morgan blinks, immediately recognizing the tone of that voice and it momentarily takes her out of the moment as she tries to decipher where, exactly, she recognizes that tone of voice from, because she knows it from somewhere — from <em>someone</em> — it was simply a matter of whom.</p><p>But, she doesn’t have much time to ponder before the masked man that held her father in a damn near chokehold began to speak again.</p><p>“So, I was thinking we’d try something different today boys, to shake things up a bit, what do you say?”</p><p>“You know I’m game for pretty much whatever,” one of the masked man chuckles from behind her.</p><p>“Same. I love surprises. What did you have in mind?”</p><p>“I don’t know, I mean, I thought a lot about this, about what I wanted to do when I came down here, but then, I thought: today, I want to be entertained, I wanna get my rocks off, I want a private show and what better people to give me just that than the darling father-daughter duo we have here? It’s like killing two birds in one stone!”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Tony grits out, venomously, which only makes their assailant that stood behind her father laugh boisterously, obnoxiously.</p><p>“Oh, believe me eager beaver, we’re getting to <em>that</em>.” The masked man clears his throat as he sobers up. “Anyway, as I was saying, before I was <em>rudely</em> interrupted, I couldn’t help but take notice of tight knit bond you two appear to have. Honestly, it’s the sweetest thing ever. It’s something you truly do not see often enough. There’s so many deadbeat fathers out there that treat their children like absolute shit, that go throughout life pretending they don’t exist without acknowledging their existence in any way, shape or form, ones that truly don’t give a fuck, ones that don’t even fuckin’ <em>try!</em> Isn’t that right daddy-o?”</p><p>The masked man presses the blade against her father’s neck, dangerously close to his adam’s apple, and it causes her breath to hitch in her throat in response.</p><p>“I bet you were such a loving, doting father. The kind that spoiled her rotten so she never had to want for anything in the world, to where she never had to ever question your love for her as her father… Am I right?”</p><p>“What do you want?” Tony mutters out, shakily. “Why are you doing this?”</p><p>“You ask good questions so I will enlighten you: I’m doing this because I <em>can</em> and secondly, I want you to prove to me, my buddies and your darling daughter over here just how much you truly love her and how tight that bond really is between you two. I want to see how far daddy-o would go to protect his little princess, how much you <em>really</em> care.”</p><p>A brief silence ensues as the man drags the large blade across her father’s throat down his chest and across his torso, still bruised from the last beating he took and pressed the sharp blade into her father’s rib cage.</p><p>“Oh, don’t tell me I have to spell it out for you, old man. Tsk, tsk, tsk, I thought you were smarter than this.” He chuckles. “Well, since you absolutely<em> suck</em> at guessing, I’ll just tell it to you straight: I want to watch you put on a nice, aesthetically pleasing show for us this evening, we wanna watch you fuck her senseless.”</p><p>Morgan could instantly see all the blood drain from her father’s face as he visibly froze in his assailant’s grasp.</p><p>“Oh, don’t get all shy and morally superior on me now, Stark! You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed that insane rack your daughter has. You’re a visible creature by nature. A red-blooded man is what you are! It’s in your blood! Always has been and always will be. I know you’ve taken notice of that fat ass and luscious pink tits, especially since you’ve been here, all alone, naked and with no one else around to relieve that sexual frustration that’s been gradually building and building...”</p><p>“And Morgan here,” the assailant continues, broadly gesturing towards her, who still remained retrained by the other two masked men. “I’m sure has a bit of pent up sexual frustration herself. You know, she’s not as innocent as she looks.”</p><p>And that is the straw that broke the camel’s back, what sets her father off, like the ticking time bomb he is and again, it escalates to violence. It always did.</p><p>“Dad, no!”</p><p>Her father was able to get in a few blows, a few satisfying sounds of bare knuckles crashing into the assailant’s jawbone, before the large knife is back at her father’s throat, eliciting a frightened gasp from her throat in response.</p><p>“Hey, don’t get froggy with me, Stark. I have zero qualms with slicing your neck open right here, in front of your daughter Nicole Brown Simpson-style; I don’t give a fuck either way. I’m simply giving you a choice here, which is more than generous of me to do so considering it’s the least you deserve.”</p><p>“You sick fuck! I’m not doing anything you fucking say!”</p><p>“That’s fine, you don’t have to. Like I said, I’m giving <em>you </em>a choice here — an ultimatum if you will, which is: either you do the fucking or all three of us will get a turn with that sweet, virginal pussy and all you will be able to do is watch, like you’ve <em>been</em> doing. Now, does that sound like any fun?” The assailant laughs, derisively. “And believe me, you may want to rethink your answer, if only for your daughter’s sake, because trust me, if it’s us; I can almost guarantee you we won’t be as gentle or patient about it as she may want and that’s definitely going to suck for her first time. So, the choice is yours daddy-o! You hold your daughter’s fate in your hands. Choose wisely.”</p><p>And Morgan couldn’t believe it had truly come to <em>this</em>. And their assailants were dead ass serious, Morgan could tell, could sense the thick tension in the air, the calm before the storm. And her eyes eventually drift to her father’s, ashen in appearance and as if he’d been at a crossroads, unable to make a decision, unsure of what to do. It was the first time in all of her fifteen years on this earth that she’d ever seen her father look so helpless, so powerless and so vulnerable and paralyzed with unadulterated fear.</p><p>And it was then that she recognized what the right decision was — or what seemed like the right decision — and for some reason, she is unable to voice it to him, but she can only hope her eyes convey what she was unable to say.</p><p>Something flickers across her father’s eyes, his glassy, red-rimmed eyes as they gaze at her from across the room, and she knows that <em>he </em>knows what she wants, because although the situation had been less than ideal — criminal, lawbreaking, morally corrupt — they both knew that they’d be safer with each other, <em>she </em>would be safer with her own father than she ever would with them. It was the only logical decision and yet, neither of them uttered a word.</p><p>Apparently, their deafening silence was enough of an answer for their assailants and before Morgan’s mind could properly register what was happening — what was about to happen — she is being tossed like a rag doll onto the mattress while one of the assailants pins her down onto the tattered mattress and she screams bloody mary, for help, for protection, for her father.</p><p>And her father couldn’t take her cries for help anymore, could not stand to see her defiled yet again, to see her brutally raped when he could have done something to stop it. Morgan knew her father would never be able to live with himself if he stood by and allowed these men to gang rape her while she cried for him, <em>begged</em> for him to save her and to protect her.</p><p>She knew that her father felt like he’d failed her before and he would not allow it again, no matter how equally depraved the <em>other</em> option would be, but somehow, someway, her father had rationalized in his mind in that moment that he would be able to live with himself if he’d been the one rather than <em>them</em>. He would’ve never been able to stand there, watch and do nothing, and she loved her father even more for his courage, for his bravery, for his love and protection that he was to provide her in that moment. He made a conscious decision that her safety was far more important than any fears he grappled with at that moment in time.</p><p>“Don’t touch her! Don’t you fucking touch her!”</p><p>“Why? You refused to.”</p><p>“I’ll do it!” Her father declares, shakily. “I’ll do it. Just… just don’t touch her anymore.”</p><p>The three assailants exchange looks between one another before the one that had her pinned down finally released her wrists and climbed from on top of her, much to her relief.</p><p>“There’s that backbone I was hoping you’d grow.” The assailant sneers, reaching a gloved hand out and pushing her father forward, over to the mattress she was unceremoniously sprawled upon. “Now go on over there and rock her world, fuck her with the same animalistic nature that brought her into this world and give us a real hot monkey loving show!”</p><p>Morgan watched the way her father swallowed thickly before eventually dropping to his knees on the tattered single mattress. He reached a hand out and touched her leg with a trembling hand.</p><p>“You’re going to hate me for this, for the rest of your life, but I want you to know that I’m doing this because I love you and I needed to protect you…”</p><p>Her father’s voice was so uncharacteristically anxious and tense. He could barely look her in the eyes as he gave her leg one last reassuring squeeze before taking his hand away to grip himself in his hand, to which he used to slowly but surely stroke his cock with.</p><p>And God she tries to focus on something <em>else</em> — <em>anything</em> else besides the sight before her and she quickly finds that her surroundings are not much better and do not provide the sense of comfort she’d been desperately searching for — quite the opposite actually.</p><p>Instead, she refocuses her attention back onto her father, because no matter how unbearable the situation was, she knew if it came down to it, she would much rather experience this type of thing with her father rather than with people she didn’t know, people who didn’t care about her and only sought to harm her, to kill her dead without a single ounce of remorse.</p><p>The silver lining she found in all of this was the fact that, although she’d always pictured that when this moment finally came for her, it would be with the person she loved and cared about and with someone who equally loved and cared about her in turn, in an ironic way, she would get that, even if it wasn’t the way she ever thought it would be. It was better than getting nothing at all except slapped around and made to feel as if she was some kind of sex doll instead of a human being.</p><p>Morgan’s eyes trail her father’s form (because he refused to look her in the eyes) and she begins to notice things about him, see him in a way she never had before.</p><p>Morgan hadn’t known what exactly had come over her (perhaps a large part of her that tried to rationalize this, make it better somehow, who really knows), but as she watched her father’s hand slide up and down his cock, fingers stroke and twist the flesh until it began to grow between his fingers, she could feel a peculiar tingle in her belly, of anxiousness and apprehension in response to the sight of her father masturbating. She could even make out the large varicose veins bulging out against the skin as he finally released his erection from his grasp.</p><p>And there’s a noticeable hesitance in his demeanor, a look of unmistakable dread painted across his face, an obvious tension in his body language. Apparently, Morgan had not been the only one in the room that picked up on his reluctance to proceed.</p><p>Suddenly, one of the masked assailants appeared behind her father, tall, lean and muscular, with a large steel blade pressed at her father’s throat, menacingly.</p><p>“Don’t chicken out now, daddy-o. Even if you do, we’ll just end up finishing what you started. Either way, this won’t be a pretty ending for either of you.”</p><p>“…Dad,” she whimpers out and when her father’s eyes lock with hers, they’re glassy and filled with unshed tears and something heavy and unpleasant sinks to the pit of her chest in response. “…Please… it’s okay…”</p><p>“You see? Baby girl knows what she wants. You should listen.”</p><p>Relief washes over her when the assailant releases her father from the vice-like grip he had on him, removing the blade from pressing against his throat and slowly backing away to rejoin the others.</p><p>“It’s okay…” she whispers out, reassuringly, in a desperate attempt at trying to ease her father’s discontent.</p><p>And he seems to take heed to her words as he slowly moved in closer towards her, until he’s leaning over her, causing her to spread her legs further apart to accommodate him in between them.</p><p>“…I’m sorry,” her father whispers and she feels his erection pressing into her thigh. He reaches down to grasp it in his hand and guide it to press against the small, puffy slit of her opening. “I’m so sorry…”</p><p>Those were her father’s last words to her before he slowly began to press forward so that the tip of his cock penetrates her, immediately evoking a slight sting between her legs and a whimper to slip from between her lips.</p><p>“Hurts…”</p><p>“I know,” he mutters out, breathlessly. “I know sweetheart I know…”</p><p>The stinging continues as her father proceeds forward, slowly and cautiously, and she finds herself clinging to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders while her nails pierced his skin as she could feel herself being stretched open, her walls expanding and contorting as she struggled to adjust to being penetrated for the very first time.</p><p>Tears fill her eyes when her father finally reaches the hilt and she feels something within her break and shatter to a gazillion pieces.</p><p>“Morgan,” her father breathes out, shakily.</p><p>Her vision blurs and she can barely make out her father’s face inches from hers and those droopy eyes of his gazing down at her. She blinks and a single tear falls from her lashes and streams down her reddened cheeks and then another and then another after that one.</p><p>“I know it’s a lot,” she hears her father whisper and he’s so close, she can feel the coolness of his breath fan out against her cheek. “I know it hurts sweetheart, please don’t cry.”</p><p>“I’m trying,” she hiccups as more tears spill from her eyes. “I’m trying daddy, I really am.”</p><p>“Oh, please, enough with the mushy shit! Fuck already!” One of their assailants shouts from behind them, which evokes an angry growl from her father in response.</p><p>“Daddy,” she whines. “It hurts…”</p><p>“I know honey, but I have to move. After a while, it won’t hurt as much anymore. Okay?”</p><p>Morgan tries to take heed to her father’s words, but when he begins to move, she winces in pain.</p><p>“N-No…”</p><p>Her father doesn’t stop, but his movements are slow and cautious, still giving her time to adjust despite the persistent stinging sensation down between her legs.</p><p>She could hear their assailants laughing at them — at her, laughing at her pain, at her humiliation and she tries her best to tune them out.</p><p>Morgan continues to cling to her father and she finds that his skin feels hot against hers and with how closely they were pressed together, she briefly wondered if he could feel the rapidness of her heartbeat against her chest, if he could sense the way her body was slowly beginning to react to his, in ways she desperately tried to suppress because she was ashamed of the fact that she was beginning to feel small sparks of pleasure. She hated that she did, because she knew it was wrong and she hated that she was starting to relish in the heaviness of her father’s cock propelling inside her and the feeling of being stretched open to accommodate his rigid flesh.</p><p>The stinging sensation was still there, but the pleasure was slowly but surely making its way through the cracks of her façade of indifference and she finds herself panting and soon enough, a reluctant moan slips and he’s looking at her now, as if he’d seen a ghost and honestly, she couldn’t blame her father for his reaction, because what the hell.</p><p>“Daddy…” she whimpers out, unable to conceal her pleasure.</p><p>The derisive laughter that echoed throughout the small room was almost enough to take her out of the moment had the glint in her father’s eyes not left her utterly transfixed.</p><p>And it was in that moment that she realized that she could never look at her father the same way ever again. She would always love him, no matter what happened, but it was different now and she had a feeling that he knew it too, judging by the way his body began to rock against hers as he reached a trembling hand out to gently caress her jaw and to wipe away the tears that managed to escape.</p><p>And she <em>feels</em> it then, the pressure in her lower abdomen, something tight and heavy building within her very core that sends pleasant tingles throughout her body that has her squirming, readjusting her position underneath him, spreading her thighs further apart and hiking them up, in a desperate attempt at taking as much of him as her body would allow and it works, because soon enough, she could feel her father thrusting in all of his length, the initial stinging becoming a dull ache, regulated to the background, overshadowed by the immense pleasure that overcomes her senses.</p><p>“Look at the way he’s fucking her, all sweet and sentimental. Fuck her like you mean it, daddy-o! Make her cum for fuck’s sake!”</p><p>The malicious words of their assailants had successfully gotten under her father’s skin, she could tell, if not for the way he pulled away from her with a hardened expression, clenched jaw and a dark, determined look in his eyes that would have frightened her any other time, but as he began to ram his hips into hers with such a force it made her body nearly vibrate in response, the pressure became much more intense.</p><p>It only took a handful of vigorous strokes before she was crying out, feeling as if something had imploded within her, something she’d never felt before in her life. She arched her back, gripping at her father’s forearms, eyes briefly closing and the subsequent sounds she made in response were nearly unrecognizable to her own ears.</p><p>She is left breathless and feeling as if all of her remaining energy had been drained out of her completely. She can hear her father hovering above her still, panting, thrusting vigorously, slamming his hips into hers, for how long, she can’t be sure, she was too busy relishing in the sense of peace that overcame her, of relief and utter exhaustion.</p><p>It was as if all of the tension she’d been holding on to since she ended up here, the weight she’d been carrying around had finally been released and she could somewhat breathe again after feeling as if she’d been smothered. Her limbs felt languid, like Jell-O, and all she wanted to do at this point was succumb to the rest her body had been craving.</p><p>Morgan had been only halfway conscious when she felt something warm and gooey spritz inside her, evoking a soft gasp from her in response. Her father, still hovering above her, let out an audible grunting sound before he collapsed on top of her.</p><p>“…Wow, I didn’t think they’d actually do it.” One of their assailants whispers to the other two.</p><p>“Better than any porn or strip club I’ve ever been to. You two deserve an Oscar for that performance. Bravo!” One of their assailants cheers.</p><p>“Please tell me we’ve got that on tape!”</p><p>“You know it!”</p><p>Morgan passes out after that, mostly from exhaustion and the feeling of being depleted of her energy, drained and spent.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 6. my dark thoughts, you can’t decode</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“How can I decide what’s right<br/>When you’re clouding up my mind?<br/>How did we get here<br/>When I used to know you so well?<br/>The truth is hiding in your eyes<br/>And it’s hanging on your tongue<br/>But you think that I can’t see<br/>What kind of man that you are<br/>If you’re a man at all<br/>Well, I will figure this one out<br/>On my own, my thoughts you can’t decode<br/>Do you see what we’ve done?<br/>We’ve gone and made such fools of ourselves<br/>There is something I see in you<br/>It might kill me, but I want it to be true”<em></em></em>
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    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tony awakens to a searing migraine on the left side of his head, where he’d been hit repeatedly only hours beforehand, maybe days, maybe weeks, Tony wasn’t sure anymore.</p><p>Things didn’t feel real for him anymore, he felt like he was living out a nightmare that he’d never awaken from, where the pain and anguish was limitless and on a constant loop, each time worse than the last.</p><p>The weight on his belly is perhaps the only reminder he has that this wasn’t a nightmare, but his newfound reality and that what’s taken place had not been a figment of his imagination, had not been another one of his disturbing night terrors. No, this was worse than any night terror he’s ever had — <em>this</em> was real, what happened was real and no matter how much Tony desperately wanted to believe that he’d conjured the whole incident up in his head, he knew he would be lying to himself.</p><p>Morgan slumbers with the top half of her body sprawled across his, her head resting on his belly and chest with one her legs slung across his, arms wrapped around his torso as her long brown hair sprung out in different directions haphazardly.</p><p>Her face was turned away from him and just as he goes to move, in attempt at dislodging himself from her embrace, she turns her head and he startles when he finds her already awake, blinking up at him sleepily.</p><p>And Tony isn’t sure if it was the tint of crimson glow of the room or if it was his own guilt manifesting in ways that were intended to make him feel even shitter than he already did, but it was something about the way Morgan was gazing up at him, the peculiar glint in her wide, round eyes that genuinely unsettled him. He’d seen something in her eyes that shouldn’t have been there, something that certainly hadn’t been there before and it unnerved him, angered him, sickened him and disgusted him.</p><p>It was enough to have him squirming away from her grasp, like she was a disease he didn’t want to catch and as he moved away from her despite her protests, he could feel the nausea, the sting of bile rushing up his esophagus and before he could stop himself, he was doubling over, vomiting with a force that made the muscles in his belly ache.</p><p>He could feel her presence appear behind him as he retches, her small, dainty hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles up and down the length of his spine.</p><p>“Dad… Dad, oh my God! Are you okay?”</p><p>“Peachy,” Tony wheezes out, before he’s doubling over again as more vomit spills out of his mouth with a forcefulness that nearly knocks him off his feet. A hand reaches out and grips the concrete wall to steady himself.</p><p>Morgan continues to rub at his back until he’s pretty sure he’s chucked up just about everything’s he’s ever eaten in his entire life, splattered across the concrete flooring and walls.</p><p>Tony’s legs feel like Jell-O and he knows had Morgan not been in close proximity, he would’ve went tumbling to the ground, further injuring himself in the process.</p><p>Instead, Morgan gently takes him by the arm and leads him back to the mattress and pulls him down so that his head rested in her lap.</p><p>“Morgan—”</p><p>“Shh,” she whispers and then, her fingers are in his hair, blunt nails caressing his scalp and he can’t help but lean into her gentle touch as he closes his eyes, sighing.</p><p>Tony, for the life of him, could not understand his daughter’s odd behavior, why she was pretending as if everything was peachy keen, as if he had not destroyed her in the worst way possible, did something to her that no father ever should and could never take back.</p><p>Why was she acting as if she didn’t hate his guts for his sinful, despicable actions towards her? He knew for a fact that she hated him for what he did, for the things he’s allowed to happen to her under his watch, for failing to protect her and keep her safe. He knew Morgan hated him because he was beginning to hate himself, more and more the longer they were held captive with the prospects of escaping slim to none, which only aided in his preexisting rage, frustration and self-doubt.</p><p>And he had a strong feeling that Morgan picked up on the fact that he was blaming himself and it was the very reason she would always lie to him, lie about the fact that she didn’t blame him for any of this, to spare his feelings and to not add fuel to an already lit fire.</p><p>Morgan was coddling him and he utterly despised it, because she probably thought he was too weak and couldn’t handle the truth, which is why she kept pretending that everyone else was to blame except him, why she constantly reassured him that she did not hold him accountable for their circumstances.</p><p>Although he knew his daughter had meant well, he sometimes couldn’t help but feel as if she was being condescending towards him, patronizing, and would only say what she thought he wanted to hear so as to pacify him.</p><p>Perhaps, it was his own guilty conscious that was fueling most of these self-loathing, defeatist and pessimistic thoughts, but no matter how much he tried to rid himself of them, they wouldn’t go away and the only conclusion he would come to is the fact that those thoughts, no matter how toxic and self-destructive they were, had merit, which is why they were always present, both in his conscious and subconscious and he <em>hated</em> it, almost as much as he was starting to hate himself.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“The third one, the one that was doing most of the talking, the one that held you at knife point, something about his voice sounded so familiar…” Morgan trails off thoughtfully as she nibbles at the small piece of sourdough bread they’re always given — bread and a cup of water.</p><p>Tony was still extremely wary of consuming anything that came from their captors, but at this point, he had no choice but to give in or he and his daughter would starve or die from dehydration. It was a risk he’d reluctantly had to take and so far, he had not noticed any odd changes since ingesting the water and bread, which was always a good sign even if Tony still remained cautious and wary of it all.</p><p>“Familiar how?” Tony asks, gazing at his daughter who sat across from him on the edge of the mattress with her knees pulled up to her chest.</p><p>“I don’t know… I just… I feel like I’ve heard that voice before, something about the tone if it. I don’t know.” She shrugs with a shake her head. “The other two were definitely Logan and Elijah, I could tell by their voices, but the other one was new. I would’ve recognized his voice way before now.”</p><p>Tony nods as he takes a sip from his half-empty cup of water. Although he had not recognized any of the voices of those sick sons of bitches, he had to admit that there was something about the third one, something about the way he addressed Tony that felt oddly… personal. And it prompted Tony into pondering, yet again, on who could hate him <em>this</em> much, who desired not only for him to suffer, but his daughter as well? It was one thing going after him, but dragging his daughter into it was a level of depravity Tony could not even fathom and it was perhaps another added layer of his suffering.</p><p>Morgan, since the day Pepper had announced to him that she was six weeks pregnant, had been his entire world. Everyone knew how much his daughter, his only child, had meant to him, which could explain part of the reason why Morgan had been dragged into this in the first place.</p><p>Tony had known that there had been quite a few people out there that he pissed off in the past. Lord knows that he was <em>far</em> from a saint, not now, not ten or fifteen years ago, but he’d gotten considerably better over time, especially after he’d met Pepper and after Morgan came along.</p><p>Tony was no longer the womanizing arrogant jerk he’d been back in his heyday and it wasn’t until he had a child of his own that he realized how shitty he was to a lot people in his past and he’d found himself constantly worried about what he would do if Morgan ever came in contact with a man that was as shitty as he used to be.</p><p>Tony had known that he’d made enemies over the years, he just never thought that it would <em>ever</em> result in his daughter and he being abducted, held hostage and tortured like this, like one of the most disturbing psychological thriller films he’d ever seen come to life — <em>become</em> his life.</p><p>He never thought it would result in him being beaten within an inch of his life, of his daughter’s constant assaults, of him being forced to take her virginity in order to protect her from being gang raped by a bunch of unhinged shit bags and that his relationship with his daughter would be forever altered because of it.</p><p>Just the thought of what he’d done caused a strong sense of nausea to overcome him in that moment. Whoever was responsible for this definitely had it out for him, wanted him to suffer, to be racked with unadulterated pain and despair. And Tony made a promise to himself that he would make whoever was responsible for this pay a great deal.</p><p>Tony would murder them with his own bare hands in cold blood and make sure they’d suffer a long, painful, excruciating death for all they’d put he and his family through. And even then, death had not felt like justice enough, because he’d known that this would affect him and Morgan for the rest of their lives, it would be something they could never forget and he would be forced to live with until he closed his eyes for the final time.</p><p>“Dad?”</p><p>Tony’s head snaps up at the sound of his daughter’s voice, interrupting his reverie of thoughts, and he blinks.</p><p>“…Huh?”</p><p>“Bread?” She says, offering him the last piece, but he shakes his head.</p><p>“No, not hungry, you can have it. You need it more than me anyway — growing girl and all.”</p><p>“Dad—” she tries again and Tony knows exactly where she’s going to go with this just by the annoyed tone of her voice and he shuts it down before she can start.</p><p>“Don’t you fuckin’ challenge me on this, Morgan. I said I didn’t want it! I’m in no mood to argue.”</p><p>The words had come flying out his mouth harsher than Tony had intended and he knew his resentment stemmed from, once again, their circumstances and he’d maliciously misdirected that anger and frustration towards Morgan, yet again.</p><p>Morgan appears genuinely hurt by his outburst. He’d never raised his voice at Morgan, only a handful of times, but never had he cursed at her, yelled at her with such venom and rage behind his words.</p><p>He drops the cup of water, not caring in the least bit that the rest of it spilled on the mattress, and he reaches towards her, to apologize, to comfort her, but instead wounds up utterly shocked by her reaction to his touch.</p><p>“No! No! Don’t touch me!” She suddenly shouts, limbs flailing about with the intent to strike. “Don’t touch me!”</p><p>“Morgan, calm down honey. I’m sorry—”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>Tony lets out a surprised yelp when one of her hands connects with his cheek, slapping him across the face in the midst of her hysterics.</p><p>Anger boils up inside of him, uncontrollable anger, frustration, and he finds himself reacting before he thinks it through and before he knows it, he’s shoving his daughter’s thrashing form down onto the mattress with a force that renders her immobile. He straddles her with his body and takes her by the wrists, pinning them on either side of her head, breathing heavily.</p><p>She attempts to free herself from his restraints, wiggling about, squirming, but it was of no use. She wasn’t strong enough to overpower him and after a few prolonged seconds of struggle, she finally resigns to the fact that he wasn’t going to move.</p><p>Tears are welled up in her eyes, her large hazel brown eyes that many often said resembled his, and one by one, the quart sized droplets fell from her lashes and onto her reddened cheeks as she glared up at him with labored breaths.</p><p>Tony stares at his daughter beneath him, her wavy brown locks of hair strew all over the place, the way her chest heaved up and down and the intense glint in her eyes as they stared up at him and he spots it again, the peculiar glint in her eyes that unnerves him, that shouldn’t be there in the first place, but it is and he despises it just as much as it invigorates him, stimulates him in ways it shouldn’t, deep within the very depths of his core, and it brings him back to that very moment she was beneath him, innocent and frightened of the unknown, his little girl that went from trembling with unadulterated fear, to shuddering with pleasure, desire and relief. The way she had clung to him and gazed up at him with such passion and desire, Tony didn’t know whether to feel disgusted or enchanted by it.</p><p>Seeing Morgan like that, his little princess, being forced to have sexual intercourse with her, it did something to him, it changed things, and he could see how it affected Morgan as well, how it also changed her perception of him as her father, filtered through a different lens.</p><p>It frightened Tony, but it also galvanized him. Tony didn’t know what the hell was going on, but perhaps this had also been the source of his anger that he did not want to acknowledge, angry at himself, angry at Morgan, and angry with the situation and realizing that <em>something</em> changed and he had no control over it.</p><p>Something dark and sinister had been awakened and exposed; a particular hunger had been birthed from that iniquitous encounter between himself and his daughter that was primitive, animalistic and insatiable.</p><p>The genie had been let out the bottle; Tony knew it and he suspected Morgan did as well. His daughter might’ve only been fifteen-years old, but she was sharp as a tack and certainly not as naive or unaware as most teenagers her age. Tony used to often take pride in that fact about his daughter, but now, a part of him resented it because it eliminated the possibility of him pretending as if this sinister <em>thing </em>that had been born out of ruins, beautiful, detestable ruins, did not exist at all. Morgan had been far too clever to fall for any of his signature manipulation games or gas lighting tactics. He found himself loving and resenting that about his daughter.</p><p>“…Why are you so mean to me?” She asks, breaking the silence and mounting tension between them.</p><p>The tone of her voice nearly splits his heart in two and he finds himself releasing her from her confinement of him with a heavy sigh as he rolls off of her and onto his back, gazing up at the low rise ceiling.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he replies. “But I’m sorry for going off on you like that. You know I didn’t mean it.”</p><p>“Are you angry with me?”</p><p>“No, of course not, I’m angry with this situation, of our circumstances.”</p><p>Tony spots movement in his peripheral vision and turns his head to find Morgan moving to sit up.</p><p>“…I’m not angry with you either… about what happened. I’m actually glad it was you rather than them. I would’ve hated you for not stepping in.”</p><p>Tony blinks and he finds her eyes on him when he turns his eyes away from the illuminating red glow of the popcorn ceiling above and onto her, feeling something in his belly clench in response.</p><p>“…You don’t hate me now?”</p><p>“No,” she replies as she shakes her head, causing a long strand of hair to fall into her face. “I could never hate you.”</p><p>Tony looks away from her then and she sighs, exasperatedly.</p><p>“Why don’t you believe me when I tell you I don’t hate you? I don’t blame you for any of this. I love you dad and I know that you’ve done everything in your power to protect me and keep me safe—”</p><p>“And yet, it wasn’t enough.” Tony interjects in a snippy tone. “My ‘best’ wasn’t good enough because you still got hurt.”</p><p>“…You didn’t hurt me by what you did.”</p><p>“I did Morgan, whether you realize it or not, I did worse than any of these motherfuckers have and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”</p><p>“Dad, will you stop? You’re absolutely <em>nothing</em> like them. You know why? Because when I was with you, I felt safe, protected and loved, unlike them. And if I had to do it over again, I would always want it to be with you. It was my first time and no it wasn’t ideal and it did hurt like hell in the beginning, but it wasn’t as terrible as I anticipated it would be.”</p><p>“Don’t do that.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Justify it like that, normalize it to make yourself feel better. It shouldn’t’ve happened and I’d give anything to take it back.”</p><p>“Why?” Morgan asks, with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. “Because there’s a part of you that enjoyed it?”</p><p>Tony shoots his daughter a sharp look in response, already feeling the heat of anger arise within him, of indignation, and utter astonishment at his daughter’s accusatory words.</p><p>“I hated every aspect of it.” He replies through gritted teeth and clenched fists.</p><p>“I think you’re lying. I think that’s why you’re so angry, because you don’t want to acknowledge the fact that there was a part of you, no matter how small, that liked it. I know you did, just by the look on your face when you—”</p><p>“Shut up!” Tony roars out thunderously. “You shut your fucking mouth, Morgan Hadley Stark!”</p><p>“Make me,” Morgan challenges, unfazed by his outburst. “What’re going to do? Hit me, yell at me, threaten me for stating something we both know to be true?”</p><p>“You’ve convinced yourself of what you believe is the truth when in reality, it’s not. It’s the <em>furthest</em> thing from the truth.”</p><p>“Then why are you so angry?”</p><p>“Why wouldn’t I be when you’re accusing me of enjoying what I did to you when I didn’t? It was the <em>worst </em>thing I’ve ever done in my entire life and I’ve done a lot of regrettable shit I’m not proud of, but <em>this </em>definitely takes the cake.”</p><p>Silence ensues between them as Morgan stares at him with an unreadable expression and Tony awaits her response with baited breath, but it never comes. Instead, she mutters out a weak, barely audible ‘okay’ before settling back down on the mattress with a sigh. She closes her eyes and goes to sleep.</p><p>Tony waits until he can hear the sound of her steady breathing through the deafening silence and finally turns his head to look at her.</p><p>And that is when he finally allows his eyes to linger on his daughter, in a way that would not be deemed appropriate. And he <em>hates</em> the way he allows himself to feel all of those feelings he’d buried deep within his core and actively pretended didn’t exist, feel that <em>intense</em> hunger, lust and longing, feel what he’d just denied to his daughter of ever feeling.</p><p>And all it took was one unfortunate encounter that should’ve never happened to fuck up his entire moral compass as a result.</p><p>Tony, with great reluctance, tore his eyes away from his slumbering daughter’s naked form and turns away from her, forcing those perverted thoughts out of his psyche.</p><p>Tony had never felt as disgusted with himself in all of his forty-six years on earth as he did in that moment. He briefly wondered if the concrete wall was solid enough to crack his skull if he rammed into it at full speed.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Tony began to treat Morgan differently after that bizarre conversation they’d had. He became noticeably distant, snapped at her more often and they began to argue a lot more than they ever have before.</p><p>They had not received any impromptu visits, so they were left to their own devices, as usual, which in layman’s terms meant sleeping, water and bread, arguing, going stir crazy, desperately searching for any means of escape (and failing miserably) and more sleep and even more arguing.</p><p>The tension was thick between them and they were constantly on edge, ready to jump off the ledge over the slightest of inconveniences. And although things had been tense between them, extremely tense, it never escalated to anything physical, which was a miracle in and of itself considering how passionate their arguments could get.</p><p>And the thing was, they argued over everything, no matter how seemingly trivial it was, because it gave them something to do, but also because of the underlining issues Tony refused to address, thus the reasoning behind the strained tension between them, along with the fact that they were stuck together 24/7.</p><p>Whenever they would get into it, there was nowhere else to go to blow off steam, which only compounded an already complex issue.</p><p>The solitary confinement was starting to get to them, that much was obvious and it was beginning to affect their mental stability in the worst ways possible.</p><p>“I wish you weren’t my father.”</p><p>Tony had been in the midst of removing his cast from his leg that had been itching like crazy when her words had sliced him right down the middle.</p><p>He looks up at her with a hardened expression and she’s glaring at him, cup of water in hand, the rim pressing against her bottom lip as she smirks.</p><p>“When I was younger, I used to fantasize about what life would be like if I’d been brought into this world not as Tony Stark’s daughter, but someone else. You know I used to wish uncle James was my father instead. He’d always been the more understanding, compassionate one out of the two of you. I would sometimes think about how unlucky I was that I ended up with you instead of him.”</p><p>And there it was; the heart-wrenching words that tore his heart in two and judging by the shit-eating grin that spread across his daughter’s face, covered by fading cuts and bruises, as she finished up her water and carelessly tossed the plastic cup across the room, she knew she had successfully gotten to him, had finally gotten underneath his skin and aggravated him.</p><p>When she moved to get up from the mattress, Tony lunges at her, startling her completely and she doesn’t have enough time to escape before Tony is grasping her by the wrist and yanking her back down onto the mattress, lying on her back. She squirms against his hold, but he ends up pinning her down with his body weight and his trembling hands close around her throat, immobilizing her completely.</p><p>“Why would you say something like that to me?” Tony shouts, right in her face that appeared undeterred by his outburst.</p><p>“Because it’s the truth,” she retorts, “which is something everyone knows you can’t handle.”</p><p>Tony glares at his daughter with shaky breaths and she lies beneath him with narrowed eyes and a haughty expression on her face.</p><p>“You know, there are <em>a lot</em> of things I could say to you Morgan, things that would utterly <em>destroy</em> whatever is left of your self-esteem, but I’m not going to say them because they would be fueled purely by my anger and the intent to hurt you. And despite what you may believe at this point — I do love you, I always will, more than you’ll ever know and I could never do anything to intentionally hurt you, no matter how much you make me dislike you sometimes.”</p><p>Morgan’s silent now and he’s gazing down at her, into those hazel brown eyes that began to gradually fill with unshed tears as her bottom lip began to tremble.</p><p>Tony goes to move away, but as soon as he releases her arms from being restrained, she reaches a hand out and grasps at his forearm, causing him to pause in his movements.</p><p>Morgan scrambles to sit up and when she does, she throws her petite arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug.</p><p>“I’m sorry daddy,” she sobbed out, tearfully. “I’m so sorry!”</p><p>Tony is shocked into momentary speechlessness before slowly wrapping his arms around his daughter’s smaller frame, hands tangling with her long, wavy brown locks of hair that pooled at the middle of her back.</p><p>Immediately, his heart softens to the sounds of his daughter’s cries and his paternal instincts seem to kick in and he holds his daughter closely and protectively.</p><p>“This place is driving me crazy,” Morgan sniffles, pulling away to look at him through red-rimmed eyes. “…I don’t know how much more I can take of this…”</p><p>“Don’t say that Morgan, you have to remain strong. I know it’s hard, probably the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, but I need you <em>try</em>, if not for me but for yourself. We’re going to make it out of here one way or another.”</p><p>“But what if we don’t? What if—”</p><p>“You can’t allow yourself to think those types of thoughts. They aren’t productive and they won’t lend us any help in escaping this hellhole. You need to have faith.”</p><p>“I’m trying dad, I <em>really</em> am. Its just… a lot easier said than done.”</p><p>“I know sweetheart, I know…” Tony murmurs, saddened by his daughter’s growing weariness and pessimism of the situation, though he knows he can’t fault her for it because he was beginning to feel the same way, even if he’d never openly admit it.</p><p>Morgan nods, sniffling, and Tony reaches a hand out to stroke her hair. She leans into his touch and closes her eyes, sighing.</p><p>Tony watches her intently and it’s only then that he realizes how erringly close they are, so close he can feel the heat emanating off of her, which causes something in his chest to tighten, painfully so, and when Morgan’s eyes flutter open, that peculiar glint in her eyes that intrigues him, yet frightens him to death is present.</p><p>And he finds himself practically spellbind by her gaze, practically frozen in place, and he figures that she might’ve taken this as a sign of weakness, a chink in his armor, and perhaps it was, because he sees the way she’s blinking up at him and could almost see the wheels turning in her head, and so it comes to no surprise to Tony when she takes him by the hand, the one that was buried in her thick tresses of hair, and presses a small, chaste kiss to his wrist, maybe to test the waters and see how he would react, Tony isn’t quite sure, but he doesn’t push her away, because why would he? The gesture was innocent enough.</p><p>But what<em> does</em> come as a surprise (okay, maybe it didn’t) is when she tilts her head to the side and leans into him, into his body so that he could feel the soft prickles of her hair grazing his skin and the softness of her breasts pressing against his chest.</p><p>Tony knows he needs to stop what was about to happen, push his daughter away, admonish her for harboring such repulsive and unseemly, incestuous desires, but then… then he would be nothing but a vile hypocrite.</p><p>He would have to pretend that the desires Morgan harbored were, without a doubt, one-sided. He would have to lie and act as if he had not been changed and affected by what he’d been forced to do to her, he would have to go on pretending as if he was viewing his daughter through the same lens that he had been before all of this shit went down and it would be a blatant lie. Not one of his first and probably not the last, but a lie nevertheless.</p><p>As Morgan inches closer, Tony knows what he should do, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually <em>do</em> it, because, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, a part of him wanted it too and he couldn’t understand why.</p><p>He couldn’t understand why he’d yearned to know if Morgan’s pink lips felt as soft as they looked, couldn’t comprehend why he wanted to witness that look on her face when she’d orgasm for the very first time in her life as he took her virginity, could not decipher why he wanted to experience the tight wet caverns of her pussy wrapped around his cock that inevitably drove him over the edge...</p><p>Tony’s mind had been overwrought with all of these salacious thoughts about his own flesh and blood and it drove him out of his mind, crazed with anger, guilt, lust and rage.</p><p>When their lips connect, a soft grunt vibrates from the back of his throat, while one of her hands finds its way in his hair, tugging at the short strands of hair which causes his head to tilt back a bit, lips parting and allowing her tongue to slip through and tangle with his own.</p><p>Tony was utterly <em>flabbergasted</em>, not only at the situation, at what was happening and the fact that he wasn’t stopping it, but how great of a kisser Morgan is. Where in the <em>hell </em>did she learn how to french kiss so well?</p><p>When Morgan pulls away, leaving him pathetically panting after her, the look in her eyes nearly startles him. Those hazel brown eyes were filled with such desire and unadulterated lust, prompting a tingling sensation between his legs, his erection growing and growing the longer he gazed into those eyes that conveyed more than she could ever say.</p><p>She guides the hand that she still had in her grasp down to her chest, across the flat plane of her belly, and down between her legs and it’s soft, warm and <em>wet</em>. The small sound that erupts from his daughter’s throat just by his touch is enough to get his adrenaline going, his heart racing and erection curling up into his navel.</p><p>Any objections he may of had died on his lips when she lays back down on the mattress, flat on her back and spreads her legs for him, offering herself up to him like delicious gourmet on a platter.</p><p>And Tony knows then that he could no longer deny the inevitable, could no longer pretend, did not possess the strength or willpower to turn her away like he very well should have.</p><p>Tony wasn’t sure if it had been the crimson glow of the room that reflected off her naked form in a majestic way, or if it had simply been their circumstances finally getting to him in ways he could’ve never predicted, but either way, Tony found himself crawling on top of her and covering her body with his own, groaning at the skin on skin contact, wasting no time licking his way into his daughter’s mouth — all of the previous hints of denial, hesitation and reluctance was obliterated. Tony did not care anymore, at least not in that moment, all he could focus on was tangling his fingers in her soft brown tresses, the feel of her soft skin pressed against his, and the sounds she made in response to him.</p><p>Tony had not a clue what had come over him, but he’d known, somewhere in the deep, dark corners of his mind that there would be no coming back from this and that he was willingly signing his soul over to the devil in exchange for getting the sugary sweet taste of his daughter, his sweet Morgan, and now, his only vice.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 7. lamenting memories long past in the remnants of darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>“These wounds won’t seem to heal<br/>This pain is just too real<br/>There’s just too much that time cannot erase”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Pepper…” A voice echoes from behind the bathroom door that resembled James. “Pepper, are you in there?”</p><p>Pepper arises from the toilet she’d just spent half an hour puking her guts into, flushing away the evidence and straightening out her black pencil skirt and ivory colored blouse. She’d been feeling nauseous for the entirety of the day and she had a feeling a lot of it had to do with the fact that today had been the day of Tony and Morgan’s memorial.</p><p>It was an idea James had suggested rather than a funeral, given the fact that two months had gone by and her husband and daughter’s bodies had yet to be recovered and there had not yet been any leads on what might’ve happened to them that fateful afternoon other than the fact that they were in a car collusion and mysteriously disappeared thereafter.</p><p>After washing her hands and double checking to make sure her appearance was up to par, she opens the bathroom door to find James standing behind it in a dashing black tuxedo with a concerned glint in his warm brown eyes.</p><p>“I’m fine,” she states before he could ask if she was okay. “Everything set up and ready to go?”</p><p>“Yeah, they’re ready for you. Are you sure this is what you want to do? There’s still time to change your mind—”</p><p>Pepper shakes her head.</p><p>“No, no, I can do this. We’ve been planning this for weeks and I’m not going to blow it now. This is what Tony and Morgan deserve, to be remembered for the good they contributed to my life and others. They deserve to be honored and cherished by those that love them most.”</p><p>James nods understandingly, pursing his lips and proceeding to hold his arm out for Pepper to take, offering up a halfhearted smile.</p><p>“I couldn’t agree more. Let’s do this thing, shall we?”</p><p>The ceremony took place in the living room of the large two-story home that had been cleared to make room for the guests and for the podium for their closest family and friends to deliver kind words to the dearly departed.</p><p>A large portrait of the father and daughter duo is situated on the left side of the podium, surrounded by a collection of various colorful blooms of red roses, lavender lilacs, pink dahlia’s, orange tulips and white orchids.</p><p>The portrait had been taken three years ago, not long after Morgan’s twelfth birthday. It was supposed to be a family portrait but Pepper had fallen sick with the flu. She’d urged them to go ahead without her even though Tony was hesitant. The portrait turned out beautiful, with Tony grinning from ear to ear as he stood behind his daughter with his hands on her shoulders, while Morgan cheesed brightly, white dress with brown polka dots on it that Pepper had specifically picked out for her to wear, two French braids on either side of her head that Tony had styled himself at Morgan’s request.</p><p>Pepper’s heart warmed at the sight of the portrait they’d ended up hanging in the main hallway entrance of the home. Now, the portrait brought about mixed feelings of longing for that time back and sadness of the fact that she would never see her husband and child again, never know what truly happened to them.</p><p>Pepper was barely able to keep it together when James had taken to the podium to deliver his heartfelt speech about his best friend and niece.</p><p>“…How can I say goodbye to someone who has been an integral part of my life for over twenty years? How do we reconcile ourselves to the heartbreaking reality that our beloved Tony is no longer physically with us? For months now, we have tried to prepare ourselves for this inevitability, but it was Tony himself, with his good humor, with his courage and absolute lack of self-pity, who made us believe that we might still have more time and that the void we have in our hearts today might be put off at least a little while longer.”</p><p>“I met Tony back in our college days at M.I.T., when I was sixteen and Tones was fourteen. We’d been assigned partners for a project. Tony had to be the craziest, smartest, most annoying individual I’d ever met.” James chuckles, drawing out a few heartwarming laughs from the small crowd of people situated in chairs gathered around the podium. “After the untimely demise of his parents, it understandably changed Tony and he went down a path that frightened me at the time because at some point, I was afraid I’d get a phone call informing me that my best friend lost his life doing God knows what. It was during that time that Tony had become wildly self-destructive. I remember telling him once that if he had any plans on us growing old together, he needed to get his act together or he’d be in an early grave.”</p><p>“I’m not sure if he took heed to my words or not, but Tony did get his act together eventually, not long after he took over Stark Industries, where he would meet his then assistant Pepper Potts; the woman that grew to be the love of his life, only after she quit turning him down at every turn.”</p><p>This draws out another hearty laugh from the crowd, including Pepper, who sported a tearful grin at the memory.</p><p>“I can recall Tony calling me up in the middle of the night after his first date with Pepper. It had to be three or four in the morning, and telling me that Pepper was the one, that she was going to be his wife. I remembered asking him how in the world was he able to come to that conclusion after just one date. And I remember he said something that always stuck out to me that went along the lines of ‘because I can’t stop thinking about her platypus, she makes me feel alive,’ and it was in the way he’d said those words that I knew that my best friend was in love, which is why it didn’t come as a shock when Tony nearly tackled me to the ground with excitement, some odd years later, chanting ‘she said yes! She said yes!”</p><p>“I’ve never seen Tony look as happy as he did on his wedding day. He cried his eyes out the entire day, could not take his eyes off of his blushing bride. I remember him pulling me aside and telling me that, of all the decisions he’s made in his life thus far, Pepper had been his best one yet.”</p><p>A series of “awe’s” and sniffles erupted through the small throng of people as James continued.</p><p>“And boy oh boy was he over the moon when he discovered Pepper was pregnant, with his first and only child. Tony was just as thrilled at the prospect of being a father as he was petrified. It was at one point that Tony never desired children, but then Pepper came into his life, and he began to question all the things he thought he never wanted that he did in fact want with Pepper and one of those things was children. And even though he would not have the slightest clue in the world of what he was doing, he would try to be the best father he knew how to be because it was what Pepper and their child deserved.”</p><p>“The nine months leading up to the birth of his little girl was one of intense excitement, anticipation at finally getting to meet the little person that spent so much time growing in Pepper’s womb, but also fear of the unknown, along with unadulterated hope and happiness. And then when the night finally came, when Morgan finally entered into this world for the very first time, Tony cried like a baby, just like he did on his wedding day. And he’d told me he never loved anyone as much as he did Morgan, his baby girl, his little princess.”</p><p>“Morgan had grown to be the beautiful, intelligent and witty daddy’s girl she was destined to be at birth. Tony had wanted me to be Morgan’s godparent because he said that he knew for a fact that Morgan would love me just as much as she loved him and that I would love and protect her with the same innate passion and intensity that he did… I can’t say that he was wrong about either of those conjectures. Morgan was like the daughter I never had and I loved her like one. She had so much to give to the world; her passion, her intellect and the joy she brought to so many people’s lives. Morgan, along with Tony, had their lives cut short entirely too soon.</p><p>“In conclusion, I would’ve never thought Tony and I would’ve ended up as lifelong friends as a result of some class project, but we did and it has been some of the best, most memorable years of my life. Tony has always been like a brother to me, a confidant, and friend. We might’ve not always seen eye to eye but no matter what, there was always mutual love and respect there. I’ve known Tony for most of my life and although I know I never said it as much as I could have; I loved Tony more than he could’ve ever possibly known. And I think I will always regret never telling him that for verbatim as much as I could have.”</p><p>Clapping erupts from the small throng of people as James moves away from the podium to take his seat in the front row beside Pepper and her mother, who moves to stand as they embrace with Pepper leaning into press a chaste kiss to James’ cheek.</p><p>“You’ll do great,” James whispers to her, encouragingly, before she moves past him to take his place in front of the podium.</p><p>She takes a few deep breaths for herself, closing her eyes briefly before she opens them again to gaze out onto the small crowd of familiar faces.</p><p>“I would like to thank you all for coming to Tony and Morgan’s memorial. I am truly touched that you care enough to show your support for us and your respect for Tony and Morgan this way. During the past few days, many of our friends and family have come to our home to show their love for us and as well as Tony and Morgan. I have been especially moved by the fact so many of Morgan’s teachers and principals have shown up and cried with us. I am also touched by the love her young friends had for her. Our memories of this sad time in our lives will therefore not all be bad.”</p><p>“But first and foremost, I want to speak about Tony and the wonderful husband and father he was. It’s hard to express just how much I cherished and loved him, and will miss spending time together. Tony and I spent twenty years together. When I look back at the time we spent together, I can only remember a period of bliss and wonder. Tony was a man nobody can replace… at least not in my heart. Yes, the twenty years were not all that happy. What we had was not a perfect marriage but as people say… Tony and I were perfect for each other and we were! With our union, we gave life to a beautiful daughter. It was clear from the very beginning that Tony was <em>not</em> going to be the disciplinarian. He was strict but not stiff and he loved our daughter so much. Morgan loved him tremendously because Tony never feared showing his emotions towards her, towards me or to just about anyone he loved. He was indeed affectionate and was not a man of few words at all! Tony had lots to say for just about anything. Anyone who ever had the chance to talk to him would say, he indeed had lots of things in his mind. I guess you can say Tony was ‘opinionated.’” Pepper chuckles, sniffling a bit.</p><p>“Tony lived his life the best way he could. Tony was well-loved and I guess seeing everyone here right now, having this big a crowd on his memorial only proves that indeed Tony was and is well-loved. How could he not be? He was such a kind soul. The type of person you can’t get enough of. Well, at least I think of him that way. I married him, didn’t I? If I could live all over again and would go back to the time when Tony asked me to marry him, even for a million times all over I would still say yes! Marrying him was the best decision I ever made in my life and I would not change that even if I have the chance to do so… not even for a handsome prince charming. That’s how much I love my husband… That’s how much I will keep on loving him.”<br/><br/>“I still remember one conversation I had with him. We were talking about Morgan, about how we wanted to see her grow up. He had lots of dreams for her. Tony was such a proud father. He was the type of father who would flaunt his kids to his friends and his friends loved our daughter too of course. Tony dreamt big. He wanted our child to grow up wise, God-fearing, respectful and successful. Tony had achieved that with Morgan thus far.”</p><p>“Morgan, our only daughter, was a remarkable girl. From the time Morgan made her first appearance, she filled our hearts with smiles and a richness that is indescribable. Born eight weeks early, Morgan was clearly a fighter from the very beginning. While doctors were not sure if she would make it through the night, Morgan clearly had other plans for us. I remember feeling the first contractions very early on, and panicking that we needed to get to the hospital right away. Morgan was always the kind of child to make quite an entrance.” Pepper giggles tearfully at the memory.</p><p>“And when all was said and done, I remember looking into Morgan’s eyes for the very first time. Her sweet eyes were pools of love, and the grace of heaven. In them I could see eternity. I remember the first time I was able to hold her, after she spent weeks in the hospital. Her tiny body weighed just 4 pounds at the time. I could not believe that a baby so small could be so full of incredible vigor and life. She was full of energy. She let out a vigorous little cry, and I knew at that point in time I was hooked on her. I was able to begin feeding her after that, with the milk that I had been waiting so long to give to her from my body.”</p><p>“I spent two months in the hospital with Morgan. During that time there wasn’t a moment when my life was not enriched. The short time I spent with Morgan filled me with an incredible sense of joy and love. And I am so grateful for the time I had with my daughter on this earth. I was able to spend countless nights holding her, and peering deep into the little soul that came directly from the heart of God.”</p><p>“While my heart is deeply grieved that I could not spend more time with my sweet girl, I know that Morgan is in heaven now with her father. I’m sure they’re both happy there because in heaven there is peace. While Morgan did spend so little time here on this earth, she made a lasting impression, one that will last a lifetime.”</p><p>“Tony, I know we will see each other again. I would feel your warm embrace again and our souls will unite for an eternity together in heaven. In the meantime, please do guide us as we live our life here on earth. You will always be remembered and you will always live in our hearts for as long as we live. I love you so much.”</p><p>The crowd erupts in applause as a standing ovation ensues as Pepper offers a halfhearted smile and returns to her seat where she was engulfed in a hug by her mother who kissed her cheek.</p><p>Pepper let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in as she takes her seat as soon as another close friend takes the podium. She felt a slight weight lift from her shoulders. She’d been stressing herself out over planning this memorial and making sure everything went according to plan, making herself sick in the process, but it was over now and she could finally somewhat relax now that the hardest part for her was over.</p><p>Outside of listening to the kind words of what various people had to say about her husband and daughter, the day felt long and drawn out. Pepper was glad she at least had James by her side so she wasn’t completely alone in this or overwhelmed by the sincere condolences and minute chatter of their closest friends and family after the ceremony.</p><p>Pepper managed to escape out of the back patio before she could get caught up in another conversation with someone else. She was relieved when she found the backyard was less populated than inside. It was pretty sparse with the exception of a few people spread about, mingling amongst themselves who seemed less than concerned by her quiet presence as she moved to the more secluded area of the backyard to take some time out for herself.</p><p>The warm spring breeze in the air grazing against the open parts of her skin brought about a sense of comfort and tranquility, clear hints of summer approaching. Of all seasons, summer was her favorite, but for obvious reasons, she didn’t have it in her to muster up any type of excitement or anticipation for the season like she was able to in the past. She had a happy, imperfect, but nuclear family back then. A life most women dreamed of; a loving, doting husband and a beautiful, dutiful daughter. She had neither of those things anymore and never would. The thought alone made her nauseous again.</p><p>She sets her glass of red wine down onto the grass and slips out of her heels before crawling onto the hammock with a heavy sigh. The same hammock she and Tony had once made love on, drunk out of their minds, laughing deliriously with the taste of liquor on their tongues as they kissed, sloppily, passionately, hastily, while their nine-year old daughter napped peacefully upstairs in her bedroom, having not the slightest clue what her parents had been up to.</p><p>The memory hit her like a tidal wave and it made her heart ache. She would never be able to hear her husband’s voice again, never be able to kiss him, to make love to him, to remind him that coffee did not substitute a hearty meal.</p><p>What would she do without her rock? How would she go on without her heart and soul? How could she continue living without the love of her life or her daughter, who was the apple of her eye? Pepper had been struggling with trying to figure out how to not sink into a bottomless pit of despair, but she was inching closer and closer towards it. Thank God for James. She knew had it not been for him, she would’ve already been in the sunken place, more so than she already was.</p><p>Pepper visibly startles when she opens her eyes and finds someone she did not recognize standing before her, clad in a black, velvet tuxedo.</p><p>As she blinks up at the young man, getting a better a look of him, her breath gets caught in her throat as something unpleasant clenches in her belly. The nausea returns full force and before any words could be spoken, she’s doubling over and vomiting whatever was left over from her breakfast that morning into the nearby bushes.</p><p>“Oh my, are you okay?” The young man asks in a frantic manner from somewhere behind her, voice laced with heavy concern.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Pepper chokes out sounding not at all as convincing as she hoped she would.</p><p>“Are you—?”</p><p>“Yes, I just… I need a towel.”</p><p>“Got it,” the young man replies, rushing away and returning with several paper towels. “I hope this helps.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Pepper replies, using the paper towels to wipe her mouth. Thankfully, none of the vomit got onto her blouse and no one seemed to take notice to the scene she’d just caused, which she was grateful for.</p><p>“No problem. I hope I didn’t scare you. That wasn’t my intention.”</p><p>“You’re fine,” Pepper waves him off. “I haven’t been feeling my best as of late.”</p><p>“Understandable,” the young man nods.</p><p>Pepper glances up at him with a frown as she pushes a strand of hair that fell into her eyes behind her ear.</p><p>“Not to be rude or anything, but do I know you? You look familiar, but I can’t say that I’ve ever met you before…”</p><p>“You haven’t,” the young man clarifies. “My name is Miles Camarillo; I’m a… close friend of Morgan’s, a <em>really</em> close friend.”</p><p>“Oh? I don’t remember her ever mentioning your name. I knew all of her close friends—”</p><p>“That’s because it was a secret. Our relationship was kept a secret.”</p><p>“Relationship?”</p><p>“We were dating.”</p><p>Pepper frowns up at the young man, swinging her legs over the hammock as she moves to slip her heels back on.</p><p>“I would’ve known if my daughter was seeing a boy. Morgan never kept any secrets from me or her father.”</p><p>“With all due respect Mrs. Stark, I have no reason to lie. I cared about your daughter and I wanted more than anything for her to tell you about us, but she was too scared to, so we kept it a secret. I was heartbroken when I heard the news about what happened. I wasn’t sure whether it was appropriate or not to show up here, but I needed some type of closure.”</p><p>Pepper stares at young man who went by the name of Miles, who appeared to be in his late teens. He was attractive, brawny with a lean physique, jet black hair that was combed back neatly, quite tall, smooth brown complexion that contrasted strikingly against his olive green eyes that sort of spooked her out the more they gazed at her with earnest. Something about his very presence made Pepper uneasy and she didn’t know exactly why.</p><p>“…How do I know you’re telling the truth?”</p><p>Miles pulls his cellphone out of his coat pocket, scrolling a bit, as if he was searching for something, before handing it to her. Pepper frowns, tentatively taking the phone from his grasp and gazing down at the screen, which captured a picture of her daughter and the young man that stood before her, laughing and engaged in a kiss. Pepper glanced at the date the picture was taken and it had been well over six months ago.</p><p>“Do you believe me now?”</p><p>“I have no choice but to.” She replies, utterly astonished as she hands the phone back to him, which he gladly accepts, slipping it back into his coat pocket. “How long were you two seeing each other for?”</p><p>“Three months.” Miles replies. “They were honestly some of the best months of my life. I never would’ve thought we’d ever come to an end like this…”</p><p>Despite her apprehensiveness, Pepper couldn’t help but feel utter empathy for the young man standing before her, whose head hung with a grief-stricken expression on his face. She sighs and reaches a hand out, patting his chest.</p><p>“I’d like to think she’s in a better place now.”</p><p>“You think so?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Pepper nods, a soft, genuine smile gracing her face in what felt like ages. “Yeah, I do…”</p><p>“Pepper!”</p><p>Pepper turns her head in the direction her name was called to find James standing near the patio, beckoning her over. She turns her head back to the young man and gives his forearm a reassuring squeeze.</p><p>“I have to go. It was nice meeting you Miles. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer but make yourself at home.”</p><p>“Thanks…” she hears him reply from behind her as she rushes off in the direction towards James.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>“Hey,” James replies, stepping aside so Pepper could enter the home. “Who was that?”</p><p>“The boy my daughter’s been seeing this entire time without my knowledge.”</p><p>“Oh, I was wondering if he’d possibly show up.”</p><p>Pepper turns to look at James inquisitively.</p><p>“You know him?”</p><p>“No, but I knew Morgan was seeing him.”</p><p>“James—”</p><p>“Hey, don’t tear my head off about it. She’s my niece and she trusted me with her secrets. I told her to tell you and Tony. She said she would, but she obviously never got around to it.”</p><p>“I can’t believe Morgan had been seeing that boy for three whole months and I didn’t know a thing about it. How could I have missed that?”</p><p>“Well, to be fair, Morgan was a lot more stealth than you ever gave her credit for. That girl had a side to her that could be quite sneaky when she wanted to.”</p><p>This draws out a small, reluctant giggle from Pepper.</p><p>“I guess she did.”</p><p>“Anyway, a couple people wanted to speak with you.”</p><p>“Oh, before I do that, I need to go brush my teeth first.”</p><p>James frowns at that.</p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“I puked again.”</p><p>“Pepper,” James sighs and she already knows exactly where he’s going with this.</p><p>“I’m fine James. It’s just the stress that came with planning this memorial and all the emotions tied with it. I’m okay really. Once all of this is over with, I’ll be back to normal. Don’t worry.”</p><p>“You know I always worry especially when I’m told specifically not to.”</p><p>“I know. It’s one of your very unfortunate flaws.” Pepper chuckles, offering him a wink as she ascends the stairs. “Keep them busy until I get back okay?”</p><p>“Don’t take too long. I only have so much willpower that I can use up in one day.”</p><p>“Ditto,” Pepper giggles.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“Look at them mijo, behaving like savages and bitches in heat. For the life of me I’ll never know what Isabella ever seen in that depraved bastard. Look at him, fucking his own daughter. Are there any lows he won’t stoop to? Son of a bitch’s been locked up for two months and this is how he behaves with his own flesh and blood? What a disgrace!”</p><p>Miles turns his eyes away from untying his Windsor knot and over to the three monitors of the father and daughter duo at different angles of the small room they were held captive in, sharing meaningful kisses and engaging in intimate foreplay.</p><p>“Well, to be fair, I was the one who planted the seed of curiosity by holding a knife to his throat and threatening to gang rape his daughter if he didn’t step in and fuck her himself.”</p><p>“That may be true, but no one’s holding a knife to his throat now. He’s doing those things to his own daughter on his own free will. And from what I can tell, I see he still harbors a penchant for playing with toys that don’t belong to him. His own daughter is not even off limits to his depravity. Could you imagine how you would’ve turned out if he decided to grow some balls and raise you himself? What he would’ve done to you?”</p><p>Miles eyes remain on the monitors; particularly the one situated in the middle that displayed the father and daughter from a high-angle shot, floating above them, of daughter sprawled out on her back, legs spread and bent at the knees, while father lies atop of her, pumping in and out of her with slow, powerful strokes as he continues to smother her with affectionate kisses.</p><p>Miles watched the duo closely and something within him clenches in aggravation. It wasn’t the blatant incest that bothered him, but it was the way he watched the man he’d grown to abhor for most of his life touch the young trembling girl beneath him, he sees it and it infuriates him, because he <em>wasn’t </em>there, because he <em>didn’t</em> care, and because he <em>never</em> loved him the way he loved <em>her</em>.</p><p>Miles could see it, just by the way he touched her, kissed her, caressed her, fucked her. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the older man cherished the young girl, adored her, loved the beautiful wide-eyed Lolita that wiggled beneath him that came from him, was brought up by him and was now being pleasured by him in a way she probably never had before.</p><p>It ignited a nasty, ugly flame of unadulterated rage, envy and fury within him as he grits his teeth, never taking his eyes off the screen.</p><p>Miles could remember all of the stories his grandfather would tell him from a very young age when he began to question the true identity of his biological father and where exactly he was and his grandfather would inform him that his biological father had been a perverted White American male from the States that had taken advantage of his mother (whom had only been sixteen at the time) and fled once the consequences of his actions threatened to come back and bite him in the ass.</p><p>His mother, Isabella, had sent him a letter, informing him of her condition, of the fact that she was carrying his child, a baby boy, but he never returned her calls or her letters. Nine months later, Isabella died during childbirth at the tender age of seventeen, risking her life to bring Miles into this world, while his biological father, Tony Stark, left him and his mother high and dry in Puerto Rico, ditched his mother like she’d been an exotic toy he got tired of playing with and eventually resumed his privileged life in the States as the spoiled womanizing trust fund baby that he was and always had been.</p><p>If it hadn’t been for his grandfather taking him in, feeding him, clothing him and providing him shelter and a cushioned life, he’d most likely been a homeless orphan boy roaming the streets of San Juan scavenging for his next meal.</p><p>Or, at least that’s how his life <em>could’ve</em> ended up if his grandfather hadn’t of sent him to the States for schooling, from junior high all the way to college where he would then learn to perfect his English and eventually lose his accent the more time he spent around his American friends and family down in New York.</p><p>You see, his grandfather, Angel Bonilla, was a very wealthy man of means that ran quite a lucrative business that earned his grandfather quite a name not only throughout Puerto Rico but also across the ponds as well, which attracted people from different walks of life from young to old, rich to poor, of varying ethnicities and nationalities. All were different, but all sought out the same thing: the high his grandfather’s products induced, unlike anything else really.</p><p>And by “product” he means the cure-all, the magic bullet, drugs meant to anesthetize its consumers among other things, special cocaine, pure white crack made from the meticulous hands of his grandfather when he was a teen, who used to be a farmhand. It was Angel who had stumbled across the unique ingredients to a drug that would later lead him into a life of organized crime that made his grandfather millions upon millions in return.</p><p>As the years went by, his grandfather’s product became increasingly popular and well-known for its quality all throughout the seventies, eighties and nineties throughout Puerto Rico as well as overseas.</p><p>It was what initially captured the attention of Tony Stark, who had not only been a rich privileged deadbeat, but apparently one with an appetite for peculiar substances not uncommon for men of his supposed “prestige.”</p><p>His grandfather’s line of work was a large reason why his grandfather was a self-made millionaire that owned several properties and acres all across the globe. A kingpin is what his grandfather was and Miles had grown to admire him and the way his grandfather had been able to find a way to pull himself out of poverty and hardship, a true rags to riches story if Miles had ever seen one.</p><p>Miles had learned a lot from his grandfather, who, after the untimely demise of his mother, had become somewhat of a father figure towards him, took him under his wing and included him in the inner workings of the “family business,” working him over and showing him the ropes.</p><p>It was his grandfather, older cousins and uncles that brought him up and taught him how to be a man. The methods used weren’t always to Miles’ liking though, like that time his grandfather had thrown him into one of his massive pools when he’d only been around six-years old, desperately fighting for his life to keep his head above water as his grandfather stood near the edge of the pool, cigar hanging out of his mouth as he watches his grandson struggle for his next breath, the sounds of his older male cousins laughing at his misfortune echoing in the distance.</p><p>Or the time he was locked in a closet for seventy-two hours after he’d accidentally lost some of his grandfather’s money that he’d spent counting for six hours straight.</p><p>Or the time he’d been forced to perform oral sex at the tender age of nine on three of his grandfather’s middle-aged clients (a doctor, a lawyer, and a politician) to “compliment” closing the deal. Miles had <em>begged</em> his grandfather for mercy, but it was either perform the act or become an orphan. Needless to say, he did what was expected of him that night.</p><p>Or the time he was jumped by his uncle Elijah and his cousin Logan who was his senior by three years for simply confiding in them about his depression and lack of motivation to live. They beat him to a pulp while all he did was cry for his grandfather who never came to protect him.</p><p>And when he reached the age of thirteen, his grandfather had sent him away to the States to get an education. It would teach him independence and provide him the skills of how to operate in a foreign land without heavily relying on his grandfather’s protection.</p><p>Honestly, Miles had jumped at the opportunity to go, no matter how daunting the prospect of leaving his home for the very first time was to him.</p><p>Although he resented it, all of the incidents and experiences that occurred to him (sometimes directly and indirectly caused by his grandfather’s own doing) were a necessary evil (as his grandfather so eloquently put it) in order for him to grow into the man he was today. A man that wasn’t easily swayed, a man that was cunning, ambitious, strong, smart, ruthless, determined, stubborn, but courageous when he needed to be.</p><p>His grandfather never wanted to raise a mentally weak grandson, that’s not how Bonilla men were, Miles was to be the man that would make his deceased mother proud and bring nothing but honor to the family name, which he had thus far and his grandfather never missed an opportunity to remind him of it.</p><p>“Oh, look at the way he’s giving it to her mijo. She’s gonna explode all over her papito’s pene.” His grandfather laughs, momentarily disrupting his train of thoughts, becoming increasingly amused at the show the duo was putting on for them displaying across the monitors.</p><p>Miles, throughout the duration of his time in America, had kept close tabs on his biological father, Tony Stark.</p><p>Miles had experienced a myriad of emotions when he’d first seen the man in person at the age of seventeen when he’d come to speak at his private school about some scholarship sponsored by Stark Industries for young brilliant minds. Miles had not been interested in what the man was selling, only that he was <em>there</em>, in the flesh, giving a speech about the importance of education and some other bullshit Miles was the least concerned about in that moment in time.</p><p>The man was immaculate in appearance, average in height, neatly trimmed goatee; wavy brown hair neatly combed back, wide hazel eyes and pale in complexion.</p><p>Miles had found himself subconsciously searching for any similarities in his own appearance compared to his biological father’s. Miles had inherited his mother’s cinnamon brown complexion, his grandfather and mother’s green eyes, along with his mother’s wavy, inky black hair he found himself constantly trimming because it would grow at an exponential rate.</p><p>Honestly, Miles could not immediately spot much of a familial resemblance and for that Miles had been as grateful about that fact as he was annoyed by it and he didn’t know why.</p><p>But nothing annoyed Miles more than watching the man that gave less than two shits about him play house with his stepford wife and daughter who bared a striking resemblance of the man, his half-sister, Morgan Stark.</p><p>Miles had grown envious of the girl moreso than outright hate. She had the life that Miles was deprived of; the nuclear family unit, the loving parents, spoiled to death and never knowing what it was like to hurt for anything. Tony Stark had chosen her over him, for reasons that remained unclear to Miles other than the obvious fact that his existence was never meant to be and never mattered in the eyes of Tony Stark.</p><p>That anger and resentment he’d harbored is precisely the reason he jumped at the chance of avenging his mother’s death and getting back at the man that never cared enough to at least tell Miles to his face why he did not find him worthy enough to even acknowledge.</p><p>And, with everything that has taken place thus far, Tony Stark would have nobody else to blame for this but himself. Miles would make sure he knew that and would remind him at every chance he got.</p><p>“Alright, alright, what did we miss?” Logan announces as he enters the room carrying takeout with his uncle Elijah trailing behind carrying the drinks. “Have they gone at it like rabbits yet?”</p><p>“Just in time my boys!” Angel announces good-naturedly. “The bastard is as depraved as I gave him credit for. Logan, you owe me three big ones.”</p><p>“Shit, that’s what I get for giving motherfuckers the benefit of the doubt. I wind up as the fool in the end!”</p><p>“You let this anciano swindle you out of your money yet again? You should’ve known better by now mijo.”</p><p>“Swindle? I did no such thing hermano.” Angel smirks, slipping the three hundred dollar bills in his coat pocket.</p><p>Miles remains silent as he keeps his eyes on the monitors, never taking his eyes off the father and daughter duo. The other three men take notice of his silence and turn their attention towards him.</p><p>“Oh, I never got around to asking you about the memorial? How was it?”</p><p>“The wife’s a predictable wreck. As soon as she seen me, she puked.” Miles replies stoically, eyes narrowed and unmoving as the father moves to suckle the young girl’s tits.</p><p>“All that mourning his poor wife is doing and her husband can’t even keep his grubby perverted hands off his own biological daughter, fucking her better than he probably ever has his own wife. How dreadful!”</p><p>As Miles watched the madness unfold, he thought about the fact that Tony Stark and his family would finally know what it was like to <em>truly</em> suffer, to experience at least half of what he felt for most of his life, that family unit he used to spend years envying was now damaged beyond repair and would most likely never be the same.</p><p>The prospect alone brought about a pleasant tingle within his very core at being partly responsible for ruining what he knew probably meant the most to Tony. It was what he deserved and Miles couldn’t have been any more pleased at the way the outcome of the situation was unraveling and the fact that this had only been the beginning of Tony Stark’s downfall.</p><p>Only the beginning…</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. 8. won’t you take me away from me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“I hold my breath as this life starts to take its toll<br/>I hide behind a smile as this perfect plan unfolds<br/>But I feel I’ve been lied to<br/>Lost all faith in the things I have achieved<br/>I’ve woken now to find myself<br/>In the shadows of all I have created<br/>I’m longing to be lost in you<br/>Won’t you take me away from me”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Morgan awakens with a slight ache between her legs and a tingle in her belly.</p><p>She blinks away the sleep from her eyes, staring up at the popcorn ceiling, illuminated by the red glow emanating from the light bulbs dangling from above.</p><p>It takes a minute for everything to register, to come to the dreadful conclusion that she wasn’t at home or in her queen sized bed, but on a tattered single mattress; naked, hungry and frustrated.</p><p>And then it hits her once the soft snores resound from beside her. She turns her head to face her father’s slumbering form. He lied on his back like her, but his head was turned in her direction with one of his hands resting across his navel, with his long hairy legs spread about.</p><p>Morgan chews on her bottom lip, flushing as the thoughts of what they’d done together come flooding her memory at a rapid pace.</p><p>She would’ve believed it to be a dream had it not been for the dull ache between her legs and various hickeys covering her neck and chest, proof of their salacious undertakings.</p><p>Morgan expected to feel a lot more disgusted at what they’d engaged in together, should’ve been ashamed, should’ve hated herself for the way she manipulated her father, coaxed him into giving in to the desire to explore something nefarious with her, something that’d been recently awakened and unfortunately, never to be put back to sleep ever again.</p><p>Her actions reminded her of the story in the Bible of Adam and Eve; a story as old as time about Adam being warned about eating anything from the tree of knowledge of good and evil and how a malevolent spirit in the physical form of a serpent — the Devil — had possessed Eve to give herself up to the dark side who in turn had been able to entice Adam of all the wondrous possibilities he was missing out on by not indulging in the tree of knowledge, leading Adam down a path of destruction with her sweet words and adoring eyes.</p><p>Morgan had felt that she’d done the same to her father and although many would argue that he was the adult in the situation and took advantage, she would counter that with the fact that she knew what she’d been doing this entire time. She wasn’t naive or unaware, she plotted and in the end, she got what she’d been secretly longing for, whether she chose to admit it or not.</p><p>The fact that he’d given in let her know that perhaps this thing she was feeling had not been as one-sided as she initially thought. Either that or she was better than she ever gave herself credit for, although she was inclined to lean more towards the former.</p><p>Reaching a hand out to run her fingers through the short wavy strands of his hair, she thought about the way he’d touched her. She’d never been touched that way before nor had her father ever looked at her the way he had while on top of her. If she had to describe it, it was a look of profound desire, affliction and unadulterated love. Morgan knew it was love, because she could <em>feel</em> it in the way his fingers caressed her skin, the way he kissed her and the way he gently took her in his arms and had his way with her. It was powerful. Her eyes had watered at how good it felt, how good <em>he</em> was making her feel. She knew she would’ve never experienced anything like that with anyone else, not even Miles, and for that she is glad it was her own father that she gave herself to, even if the circumstances were less than desirable, even if she knew it was wrong.</p><p>Morgan wasn’t exactly sure what had come over her, why she’d began to see her father in a way she never thought she would, in a way that would be deemed unseemly, but she did and she was at a crossroads with herself, between whether she should feel utterly sickened by the feelings she harbored or embrace it since it was the best thing about their situation and she didn’t have any desire to let it go any time soon.</p><p>She startles when her father begins to stir a bit in his sleep, her breath hitching as her father’s eyes fluttered open, his hazel eyes drowsy with exhaustion and sleepiness, blinking languorously, before they finally lock with hers.</p><p>They wordlessly stare at one another for what felt like eternity. The silence was beginning to get to her, the slight tension in the air thickening with every passing moment, so she did what she thought was right in that moment and what she believed would ease a bit of the tension away by leaning in, tentatively of course, and pressing a chaste kiss to her father’s lips, slowly followed by a kiss to his cheek, nose and chin.</p><p>He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t stop her, the expression on his face is dreary and unreadable, so she can only assume that he’s somewhat okay with where she was going with this. At least she hoped he was.</p><p>She continues peppering his face (that was still littered with fading bruises) with kisses and when her lips find his again, warm and soft they were, she takes her time savoring the feeling of her father’s goatee scratching against her face as she deepened the kiss moving away from lazy and passionate, to hot and heavy within a matter of minutes.</p><p>Just as she’s about to crawl on top of him, he pushes her away and sits up, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.</p><p>“Dad—”</p><p>“We can’t. It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have taken it that far. I was wrong.”</p><p>“It wasn’t a mistake,” Morgan replies, sitting up a bit as she reaches a hand out and grips his wrist. “I don’t regret what happened—”</p><p>“You <em>should</em> Morgan, you <em>should!</em> I’m your father for fuck’s sake. It’s disgusting! What about that don’t you get?”</p><p>“You really believe that? You really believe in your heart of hearts that what we did together was disgusting? Because it didn’t feel disgusting to me…”</p><p>“Well maybe there’s something wrong with you.” He snaps, turning to face her, scowling. “There <em>has</em> to be if you see nothing wrong with what we did. Do you know how much of a degenerate one has to be to justify fucking incest Morgan—”</p><p>She slaps him across the face before he could even finish his sentence and the look on his face is almost frightening. She barely has any time to run (to where in that tiny ass room, she doesn’t know) before he’s on her like delicious prey he’d been stalking for weeks, pinning her down onto the mattress, breathing heavily, boiling with an unchecked violent rage just itching to be unleashed. She could see it in his eyes and feel the tension in his muscles as he uses them to manhandle her. He glares down into her eyes, gritting his teeth and scowling at her with passionate rage.</p><p>“You hit me like that again little girl and I won’t hesitate to strike back. I’ve had it up to <em>here</em> with your bratty ass and if you keep pushing my buttons and trying to rile me up, I just might give you what you’re fishing for.”</p><p>The tone of her father’s voice was so angry, threatening, and venomous and damn near lethal and she can admit that it did shake her up a bit, she wouldn’t lie, but she knew the anger her father was harboring was misplaced. He was angry at himself, angry with the fact that he’d wanted it just as much as she did, angry that he’d given in to his sinful desires and wanted <em>more</em>, she knew he did, just going by his erection, hot and heavy it was, pressing into her navel, which is why she rolled her hips up into his just to see what his reaction would be.</p><p>And her father could not even disguise the shiver that rippled through his body or the small noise that erupted from his throat in response. His long, curly lashes fluttered and his eyes fogged over with fire and desire, an apparent internal tug of war with himself of what he knew to be right versus what <em>felt</em> right, and in that moment, it was her soft, pliable body beneath his that felt oh so right.</p><p>Her father’s resolve was deteriorating, crumbling right before her eyes, and she welcomed the transition with open arms.</p><p>She wanted her father to fully submit to her, she wanted <em>all </em>of him, she wanted him to stop pretending, to stop acting as if she was in this alone when she knew for a fact that she wasn’t.</p><p>And her beliefs are confirmed when she watches her father’s droopy eyes drift down to her lips and she knows what he wants to do, but he’s afraid, hesitant, and ashamed.</p><p>“We’re probably going to die here dad. I don’t wanna leave this earth feeling miserable and lonely. I wanna feel alive; I wanna feel good, I wanna feel <em>something</em> other than wanting to die every time I wake up here.”</p><p>The look on her father’s face made something in her chest tighten; almost making her regret ever sharing the dark thoughts that threatened to consume her if she allowed it to him. He appeared as if he pitied her, like she’d shot a dagger right through his heart and she didn’t like it. She felt like such an awful person when he would look at her like the way he was looking at her in that moment.</p><p>“Morgan,” he whispers out, shaky and weak, eyes glimmering as he attempts to blink away the unshed tears, his face visibly softening within a matter of seconds. “…Morgan—”</p><p>“Kiss me,” she whimpers out, pouting up at him desperately. “…Please…”</p><p>“Morgan,” he utters out in a distressed tone. “Morgan, you know I can’t—”</p><p>“Fine, then I will.”</p><p>And before he was given the adequate time to register her words, she’s craning her neck and then she’s kissing him again and as she predicts, he doesn’t push her away, not even a little bit, which only inflates her confidence, which leads her into using the little bit of strength she managed to muster up in that moment and roll her father onto his back so that she could crawl on top of him, straddling his hips.</p><p>She pulls away from their kiss to gaze down at him as she could feel his hands rest at her hips to steady her.</p><p>“…What are we doing?” He asks dejectedly and it almost sounds like a rhetorical question, like he was asking himself that more than anything.</p><p>“We’re making the best out of a shitty situation.”</p><p>“Watch your mouth young lady.” Her father says in attempt to scold her, but it comes out weak and apathetic instead.</p><p>“And if we end up in hell because of it,” she continues as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “At least we’d be together.”</p><p>And then she’s crashing her lips onto his before he can respond. He lets out a small, barely audible squeak from the back of his throat, before he eventually relaxes his stiff form, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame, tugging at the very ends of her wavy brown hair that cascaded down her back like waterfalls.</p><p>The kiss eventually becomes salacious, igniting a few sounds of pleasure from both of them in response. It was the mere thought of the fact that Morgan was tongue kissing her own father that really got to her, aroused her even, noticeably increasing the heat she felt between her thighs while her father’s erection curls up into his navel, a clear fluid leaking from the tip, smearing against his skin.</p><p>It piques her interest, the way her father’s cock contorts in different ways, and she finds herself pulling away from their intense kiss, leaving her father panting after her to gaze down at the swollen flesh with curiosity.</p><p>Tentatively, she reaches one of her hands out, glancing up at her father who watches her closely, and grasps it in her hand with a steady grip, evoking a deep, throaty grunt from him in response.</p><p>She bites her lip nervously, unsure of what to do next. It felt soft and fleshy between her fingers and she lets out a small breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding when it twitches in her hand as more of that clear fluid gushes out from the tip.</p><p>She startles when her father reaches a hand out and wraps it around her own securely.</p><p>“…Like this,” he mutters out as he begins to moving their conjoined hands wrapped tightly around his shaft. “Up and down, up and down, up and — <em>urgh</em>...”</p><p>Morgan watches as her father began to sputter and his breathing become increasingly heavy with each stroke. An exponential amount of clear fluid began gushing out of the tip of his cock the faster their strokes became, up and down the girth of his erection.</p><p>Morgan could tell her father tried oh so desperately to suppress his obvious arousal, conceal his moans of ecstasy, but he was failing miserably and Morgan was damn near giddy with joy at the sight of her father coming apart by every passing second.</p><p>Eventually, he lets go and allows her to continue pumping his cock with her own hand once she’d gotten the hang of it herself and something warm and fuzzy flutters within her at the sight of her father arching his back, lips parting as he groaned audibly and spreading his legs further apart to accommodate her in between them.</p><p>She yelps when he bucks his hips up into her hand, slowly but surely becoming consumed with the pleasure of her hand working him over, causing more clear fluid to leak. She swipes a finger over the small slit at his tip and her father practically writhes in response.</p><p>Her father’s reaction pleasantly surprises her and she decides to take it a step further by leaning down and flicking her tongue across the tip of his cock.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” he moans out and she never takes her eyes off of him as she repeats that action, over and over, until he’s gasping and his cock spazzes sporadically in her grasp, squirting out a milky white fluid that spatters across her naked chest, syrupy in texture and gooey in appearance, sliding down over one of her erect nipples. She gasps in response, pulling away to gaze down at the mess her father made.</p><p>“Oh God,” her father pants out in a panicked tone. “Oh God, Morgs, I’m so—”</p><p>Her father’s words are cut short when she reaches to dip her fingers into milky white fluid splattered across her chest, and darts a tongue out, licking her fingers clean of her father’s cum that had a peculiar, distinct bittersweet taste that seemed to heighten her senses a bit, arouse her even more until she’d cleaned most of the mess up herself simply by the swift flicks of her tongue from her fingers.</p><p>Her father watched, utterly stunned and left thoroughly speechless and most of all: aroused.</p><p>“...I like the taste of your cum daddy. I want more.” She reaches a hand down to grasp at his cock again, squeezing it and surprisingly enough, more fluids gushed from the tip as the flesh continued twitching between her fingers. “Give it to me,” she commands.</p><p>Her father’s pupils dilate and he wets his lips, the glint in his eyes forbidding and resolute.</p><p>“You can’t always get what you want Morgan. No means no. I know it’s a foreign concept to you and has been for most of your life, but I mean it this time. <em>No</em>.”</p><p>Her eyebrows furrowed in response.</p><p>“So you’re going to make me beg for it or take it by force? Those are your only two options at this point, papa bear.”</p><p>“Get off me Morgan.”</p><p>“So the hard way is your style? Why am I <em>not</em> surprised?” Morgan chuckles.</p><p>“Morgan—” he desperately tries, he <em>really</em> does, but he fails yet again when she lifts her hips a bit, aligning his brand new glimmering erection with her entrance, wasting no time sinking down onto his cock. She doesn’t even wince this time around. Perhaps she was finally adjusting to his size like he said she would.</p><p>Tony chokes out a moan, short blunt nails digging into the skin of her thighs and hips as his mouth falls open in a silent scream, meanwhile Morgan’s toes curl at the feeling of being penetrated yet again by her father’s wet and heavy cock that filled her up to the hilt.</p><p>“Feels like home,” she whispers out, eyes fluttering with desire as she leans over her father’s stilled form, the palms of her hands splaying flat against his hairy chest. “Or the closest thing to it...”</p><p>“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into by doing this. Why won’t you listen to me dammit?”</p><p>“Because I’m a horny teenager trapped in this tiny ass room with no one else to bone? Isn’t it obvious?” She replies, visibly amused by all of this, much to her father’s dismay. “But seriously, it’s not <em>only</em> that, it’s also the fact that I want you and it’s like you said before: I’m a Stark and Starks stop at <em>nothing </em>to get what they want. Isn’t that right daddy?” She winks and Tony visibly flushes at his own words he had once told Morgan, beaming with pride, but now they were coming back to bite him in the ass in ways he could’ve never predicted. “I just wanna nice comfortable ride from you daddy. Is that too much to ask?”</p><p>“Yes!” Her father shrieks before she begins to move her hips, momentarily silencing them both as she digs her nails into the skin of his chest, already feeling something inside her tingle with pleasure.</p><p>She chews on her bottom lip and gazes down at her father who watches with hooded eyes, sensual and lustful they were as he clenches his jaw.</p><p>Morgan takes one of his hands into hers and presses it against the side of her face, turning it to give an open mouthed kiss to the palm of his hand and wrist. She then moves his hand near her mouth, the pads of his fingers dragging across her lips before she slips two fingers into her mouth — his middle finger and his ring finger, a visible tan line of where his wedding ring used to reside.</p><p>It’s enough to take her out of the moment, but she ignores it and instead focuses on lapping her tongue around her father’s long, thick fingers that she’d began to deep throat, evoking an audible groan from the older man beneath her as he watched her attentively.</p><p>When she finally releases his two wet digits, they are dripping with her saliva and she then proceeds to guide his hand down to fondle her breasts, her small, adolescent breasts not nearly as big as some of the girl’s at her school, but they were a pretty nice size, at least according to Miles when she’d let him fondle them under her shirt during some of their more intense make out sessions.</p><p>Morgan reaches a hand out and grasps at her father’s other hand, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and guiding it to rest against her lower abdomen as she began to quicken the speed of her hips, bouncing around on her father’s cock, making sure she pressed the palm of his hand against her belly so he could <em>feel</em> it, feel the pressure of his own heavy cock buried deep within her, which evoked a deep grunt from him in response.</p><p>She begins to whine, tilting her head back a bit as she gazes down at her father whose gleaming hazel eyes, illuminated by the crimson glow of the room, remained on her with a passion and intensity within them that causes pleasant shivers to surge throughout her body, from the tips of her hair to the curl of her toes as she begins to ride her father’s cock with earnest, just the way she’d seen women do in movies with their lovers panting desperately beneath them.</p><p>“Daddy…” she moans, tightening the grip she had on his hand still pressed flat against her tummy. “Oh, daddy, fuck me...”</p><p>The noise her father makes in response would’ve possibly frightened her to death if it hadn’t been equally as arousing as it was intimidating, watching her father’s body writhe beneath her as he lets out a loud, almost animalistic sound, followed by the sensation of something warm and sticky abruptly filling her insides. It prompts her own orgasm and she finds herself arching her back, moaning audibly as her voice goes an entire octave higher. Honestly, Morgan didn’t even recognize the sounds that came from her mouth, even in her pleasured induced state. It was as odd to her as it was titillating.</p><p>She winds up collapsing atop of her father with labored breaths, her face pressed into his neck, her nose inhaling the scent that clung to his skin, allowing it to fill her lungs as she struggled to catch her breath.</p><p>She can vaguely feel her father wrap his arms around her, brushing his fingers through the sweaty strands of her hair that stuck to her back.</p><p>It’s quiet now, with the exception of their heavy breathing; no words are exchanged for what felt like eternity, neither of them bothering to move from their positions.</p><p>Morgan nearly dozes off a couple times just by the sound of her father’s steady breathing and his fingers threading through her hair.</p><p>As comforting as the position initially was, she was beginning to get a cramp in her leg from them being crunched up for a significant amount of time. She goes to move beside him, but her father tightens his grip on her when she begins to slowly wiggle.</p><p>She glances up at her father whose eyes are closed. She studies his face for a moment, the slight creases in his skin, the perspiration that made his skin glimmer in the small bit of light in the small room, his short wavy locks of hair that had begun to have specks of gray mixed in that she used to tease him about once upon a time.</p><p>Now though, she finds that the gray complimented the distinguished look he had going, along with his neatly trimmed goatee, still very much intact.</p><p>She brushes the pads of her fingers against the rough patch of hair and that is when his eyes flutter open.</p><p>“…I never really noticed how long your eyelashes are until now…” she whispers out, thoughtfully.</p><p>Morgan hadn’t noticed <em>a lot</em> of things about her father until now. Of course, some of these things she’s noticed about her father that were sexually appetizing was probably warped by being stuck in a room (smaller than her walk-in closet back at home) with her father for God knows how long and being forced to engage in intercourse with him in order to save her from being gang raped by a bunch of savages, however either way, the feelings were there and there was not much she could do about them now other than to explore them with her father as much as he allowed. She figured she was going to die in this awful shit hole anyway, it would only be a matter of time, and she planned on going out with an explosive bang, in true Stark-like fashion.</p><p>“And I never really noticed how sneaky you are.”</p><p>“Me? Sneaky? That’s so not true!”</p><p>When her father eyes her with a stern, forbidding glint in his eyes, she dissolves into a fit of giggles.</p><p>“Okay, okay… maybe I <em>am</em> a little bit sneaky. But I must’ve gotten it from somewhere…”</p><p>“Certainly not me.”</p><p>“Liar.”</p><p>“Am not.”</p><p>“Are to! You forget, I’m not completely oblivious to your past escapades dad. I know about the fact that papa was once a promiscuous rolling stone.” She smirks up at her father’s astonished expression at her words. “I’m only following in my dear old father’s footsteps. After all, I<em> am</em> my father’s daughter, wouldn’t you agree?”</p><p>“<em>Ugh</em>,” her father grumbles with an annoyed roll of his eyes. “You’re <em>just</em> like me, but <em>worse</em>, if <em>that’s</em> even possible at this point…”</p><p>Just as Morgan was about to reply with a witty remark, a loud, thunderous sound startles them both apart. She immediately crawls behind her father as he jumps into an immediate stance of defense, frantically searching for any immediate acts of danger other than the murderous ringing sound that reverberated throughout the small room that felt as if her ears would bleed from the pain of how loud it was.</p><p>Morgan cries out and goes to cover her ears, but it’s of no use, the longer the ringing continues, the more painful it becomes. A stinging sensation from her ears begins to emerge as tears blur her vision.</p><p>Her father tries to comfort her, even if he’s scrunching his face in unadulterated anguish, he tries his best to protect her, but there’s not much he can do to stop the twinging pain in her ears or the searing hot tears that wet her face.</p><p>She lets out a blood curdling scream of agony before she hears a popping sound in her left ear, followed by trickles of blood flowing out of her ear, the ringing sound abruptly going mute in her left ear.</p><p>She thinks she hears her father yell something at her, but she passes out before she ever gets the chance to respond.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“Ow, dad, it <em>hurts</em>. Please stop.” Morgan whines, prompting another annoyed sigh from Tony.</p><p>“Morgan, sweetheart, I <em>know </em>it hurts, but I have to clean it up as best as I can or else it might get infected and if it gets infected, there’s nothing I will be able to do to counteract that. It’s not like we have an endless supply of antibiotics down in this hellhole.”</p><p>“It hurts though…”</p><p>“I know,” Tony sighs again, nudging her hand away from her reddened ear. “But I have to finish cleaning it, okay? I promise I will be as gentle as possible. I just need you to sit still until I’m done. Can you do that?”</p><p>“…I’ll try…” she pouts.</p><p>“It’s all I ask, really.” Tony mutters as he proceeds forward with cleaning up the rest of the dried blood near her ear as she lays across his lap, frantically blinking up at him.</p><p>Morgan had known something was wrong, that something wasn’t right and she was worried to death and to be completely honest, she had every right to be.</p><p>Tony had not wanted to further frighten his daughter, but from what he could tell by the condition her ear was in and just based off of what she’d been telling him once she came to after passing out and that horrid ringing had finally ceased, he was pretty sure his daughter had suffered from a ruptured eardrum as a result, which could explain the hearing loss she was complaining about in her left ear.</p><p>Morgan watches him closely, mostly out of fear and anxiousness, but it gets to him nevertheless, even as he tries to pour all of his focus into treating the damage the injury had caused her ear, he can’t shake the slight goosebumps that form under her gaze.</p><p>Tony tries not to allow his thoughts to wonder into dangerous territory, into the darker corners of his mind, where the sinful desires and lustful thoughts linger and lay dormant.</p><p>He wrings the small wet towel into the bucket of water that had been left for them by their captors and gently dabs the damp towel against her ear, wiping away the rest of the dried residue.</p><p>“Alright,” he sighs, discarding the towel back into the shallow bucket. “All done. How does your ear feel?”</p><p>“It hurts like hell.” Morgan replies with a scrunched up face as she sits up and turns to face him. “Tell me the truth… is it bad?”</p><p>“Yes,” Tony answers, not even bothering to beat around the bush. “I think you may have a ruptured eardrum.”</p><p>“Shit.”</p><p>“Language,” Tony scolds and she sighs.</p><p>“I mean, is it permanent?”</p><p>“No, if treated with antibiotics, it should heal—”</p><p>“But we don’t <em>have</em> antibiotics and they sure as hell aren’t going to offer any!” Morgan lets out a frustrated huff as she folds her arms against her chest with indignation.</p><p>“Morgan—”</p><p>“I’m going to be permanently deaf in one ear for the rest of my life!”</p><p>“…Well, on the bright side, at least you’re alive.” Tony shrugs. “Be grateful of that.”</p><p>“I’d rather be dead.” Morgan grumbles, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“Look Morgan, I know this situation is shitty and the circumstances are far from ideal, but saying things like that are far from helpful nor is it in any way productive.”</p><p>“Well what is ‘helpful’ and ‘productive’ to you dad — fucking?” Morgan retorts with knitted brows. “Do you consider fucking to be ‘helpful’ and ‘productive’? Because you didn’t seem to have any complaints about the way I expressed myself then while trapped in this shit hole with you!”</p><p>“You watch the way you talk to me young lady or I’ll—”</p><p>“You’ll what? Spank me? Slap me around? Put me on timeout? What will you do that could ever be worse than <em>this</em>?”</p><p>Tony grits his teeth, fists balled at his sides as his nostrils flare, taking deep, calm breaths in an attempt at reining his temper that was on the brink of exploding back in.</p><p>“Don’t you fucking tempt me, Morgan. You keep me pushing me and you’ll force me to do something I may or may <em>not</em> regret.”</p><p>Morgan glares at him, but does not decide to tempt her fate by proceeding to argue with him, so she remains silent, turning away from him and crawling onto the mattress, lying down with her back towards him.</p><p>Tony decides to peruse around the small room for the umpteenth time with the ability to put all of his weight down on his ankle that had been broken. Despite the circumstances, his ankle healed quite nicely and the swelling had gone down tremendously. It didn’t hurt much at all or at least not as much as it used to.</p><p>The walls, as he grips them, are concrete, so of course he doesn’t find anything useful. The flooring is cold concrete as well, so again, nothing. He searches for hidden trap doors, any means of escape, scrounging for any small bit of hope he needed to keep his faith that they were going to get out of here in one piece.</p><p>But the longer his search went on for, the more hopeless he became and he hated it, which is why he gave up in his search for escape and wound up flopping down onto the single mattress with an exasperated sigh.</p><p>He’s staring up at the popcorn ceiling for how long, he isn’t quite sure, but it must’ve been for quite some time because he could already feel his eyelids drooping, heavy with exhaustion, his body craving rest and just as he’s about to succumb to his body’s pleas, Morgan stirs a bit in her sleep, switching positions and rolling onto her back.</p><p>And Tony turns his head to stare at his daughter’s face, her slumbering face, so peaceful and unperturbed, and he can’t help but reach a hand out and brush it against her soft cheek and run the pads of his fingers across her equally soft pink lips.</p><p>Morgan doesn’t even react, so he keeps his hand on her, turning to face her, the sleepiness he was feeling moments earlier quickly dissipating.</p><p>Tony brushes the long strands of wavy brown hair away from her face, behind her shoulders, so he could get a better look at her chest, at her petite naked body and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.</p><p>Tony’s breathing hitches at the sight of his daughter and he knows he should stop himself, have some sort of willpower or self-restraint, but he finds he doesn’t have the strength to fight it anymore, not when he knew what his daughter’s lips tasted like or how her soft, pliant body felt in his arms or the glorious feeling of her wet (formally) virginal pussy wrapped tightly around his cock.</p><p>Tony would <em>never</em> forget it, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much he <em>should</em> forget it, he <em>couldn’t</em> at this point. He <em>wouldn’t</em>.</p><p>So, perhaps that is why he couldn’t stop himself from pressing open mouthed kisses to her warm, naked skin and eventually leaning down and taking one of her soft, adolescent breasts into his mouth, suckling on the pink nipple until it becomes erect, repeating the action until both her nipples are erect and wet with his saliva.</p><p>A pleasant tingle rushes between his legs, signaling to him of his growing erection. Tony slithers down her body with ease while she still lies asleep. When he finally reaches his destination, he nudges her legs apart, which languidly fall open without much effort and he groans at the sight of her, all of her, and his mouth nearly waters with genuine awe and desire at the beauty of his daughter that his eyes fell upon.</p><p>Morgan is perfect or the closest thing to perfection, at least in Tony’s eyes. And he hates the way his balls tighten with pressure, his cock curling up into his belly, already fully erect and dripping with pre-cum.</p><p>Tony runs trembling fingers across her thighs, the pads of his fingers brushing against the soft curly hairs that covered her cunt entirely. His heart pounded against his chest as he gets himself into position, laying on his belly, his cock trapped between his belly and the mattress, which oddly provided him a bit of friction as he leaned forward, gripping her thighs, hard enough to leave an imprint and proceeding to lean his head closer to her warm heat.</p><p>And he hesitates for a moment, something unpleasant in his chest tightening, and it was as if he was giving himself one last out. This didn’t have to happen, he didn’t have to do this — he <em>shouldn’t </em>be doing this, so why was he? How had he allowed it to get to this point? How <em>did</em> it get to this point?</p><p>Tony couldn’t even remember the how’s and why’s, only what he felt and could not stop feeling, no matter how much he desperately tried.</p><p>It was her scent that ultimately broke him down to a gazillion pieces, never to be properly mended back together the same way ever again.</p><p>Tony couldn’t resist the temptation anymore, couldn’t resist his own flesh and blood, his very own seed, could not resist his daughter or the nefarious desires he harbored for her any longer. He’d not only been physically conquered, but had become mentally conquered as well; weak, hopeless and forfeiting all of his morals and beliefs, the little bit of good sense he did have left was being tossed to the wind and he made the conscious decision to bury the side of him that was telling him that everything about this was <em>so </em>wrong and instead focusing solely on his daughter’s pussy before him that twitched, begging to be licked, eaten, sucked, fucked, as if it could sense him near.</p><p>Tony’s eyes flicker up to observe his daughter’s face as he leans in even closer and darts a tongue out, tentatively flicking the wet flesh against her clit.</p><p>Still, she does not react; still very much engrossed in the deep sleep she was in, not at all surprising to Tony given the fact that it oftentimes took the devil himself to wake that girl from the sleeping dead.</p><p>Tony proceeds forward, never taking his eyes off his daughter because he desperately desired to see her reaction when she finally came to, wanted to see if she would cry from pleasure or push him away and give him the tongue lashing he very well deserved.</p><p>Tony’s tongue is slow, but purposeful, far from rushed, but with enough force behind his ministrations to draw out a reaction of some kind.</p><p>And he gets it, by the subtle twitch of Morgan’s lips and slight heaving of her chest. Morgan’s movements are languid and relaxed as she spreads her thighs further apart. Her eyes are still closed, so he picks up the pace a bit, tongue lapping her clit with passionate strokes.</p><p>Morgan moans now, her hips slowly beginning rock against his tongue that never stops pleasuring her, and it truly is a sight for sore eyes.</p><p>The sounds that escaped past his daughter’s lips were ones that could’ve easily been heard in pornography, ones that absolutely drove Tony insane and made the ache in his balls that much more evident, a small puddle of pre-cum dripping from the tip of his cock as a result. His erection was rock solid, it almost hurt, the tightness in his abdomen serving as a constant reminder of how badly he needed a release.</p><p>Tony ignores it for now and moves to slip a finger inside his daughter’s twitching hole and she gasps, her eyes fluttering open, her gaze immediately falling onto the conspicuous male between her legs, her very own father bringing her over the edge as she comes to.</p><p>“D-dad, daddy—” she hiccups, before her pussy began to spaz around his lone finger and eventually soaks his mouth and fingers with her nectar. “Mmm…”</p><p>Morgan is gasping for air, panting, and watching as he gets to his knees and using her cum as a form of lube as he begins to jerk himself off with swift, purposeful flicks of his wrist.</p><p>It only took a handful of strokes before cum was gushing from his cock, spurting across Morgan’s still twitching pussy and midsection.</p><p>Tony grunts, splaying out onto his back, breathing heavily, his limbs hanging halfway off the tattered single mattress they resided on as he gazes up at the red bulbs that hung above them.</p><p>It’s quiet now, utter and complete silence, and it’s only then that it really hits him, right smack in the face, like a ton of bricks.</p><p>What the fuck did he just do?</p><p>“…I guess those gossip rags were true. You <em>are</em> good at giving incredible head.” Morgan giggles and he flushes, snapping his head up to face her, where she lounges on the other side of the mattress, sated and presumably dazed and high off the orgasm he induced.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to read any of that stuff, I mean I <em>was</em> reading Teen Vogue and I saw an article with your name and I had to see what it was about… and… well… it led into a discussion about oral sex and… yeah…”</p><p>“Remind me to cancel that subscription.” Tony grumbles.</p><p>“Seriously though, I liked it. It felt good… <em>really</em> good.” Morgan grins, sitting up now with a lazy smile on her face and crawling over to him. “You lived up to the hype, papa bear.”</p><p>Tony flushes yet again and looks away from his daughter, not even knowing how the hell to respond to <em>that</em>.</p><p>“…So…” Morgan starts, biting her lip nervously; her fingers began to dance around the skin of his hips, dangerously inching closer to his twitching member. “Does this mean that you’re okay with this?”</p><p>“Okay with what?” Tony asks, feigning confusion.</p><p>“You <em>know</em> what,” Morgan replies with a roll of her eyes. “About… exploring our relationship in a… unconventional way?”</p><p>“’Unconventional way’? You mean incest?”</p><p>Morgan shrugs.</p><p>“If you want to be blunt with it, then yes.”</p><p>“No. I will never ever truly be okay with that — <em>ever</em>.”</p><p>“Well, you can’t keep pretending you’re not enjoying this, that it’s not making your life just a little less miserable, that it doesn’t make you feel things you’ve never had before.”</p><p>“Morgan,” Tony sighs irritably, ignoring the very valid points she made. “You’re fifteen, I’m forty-six. I’m your father and you’re my daughter for heaven’s sake. It’s wrong—”</p><p>“It’s just the two of us dad. No one is around. No else to judge us. We’re in a terrible situation that we may never get out of. Do you really want to spend your last days agonizing over shit that won’t matter in the grand scheme of things? It’s just sex.”</p><p>Tony turns to look at his daughter again and she’s staring right back at him, unperturbed by her own words to him, standing firm in them and he couldn’t help but wonder how she was able to readily accept this. Didn’t the taboo nature of the way their relationship was heading towards bother her at all? It was obvious to Tony that she wasn’t nearly as burdened by it as he was and that was concerning.</p><p>“…It doesn’t freak you out? Not even just a little bit?” Tony murmurs out softly, almost as if in resignation as he blinks up at her.</p><p>Morgan shakes her head, shrugging, and he couldn’t help but observe the way Morgan’s breasts jiggled from the movement.</p><p>Needless to say, the tingling sensations between his legs returned with a vengeance.</p><p>“Nothing freaks me out more than waking up here and spending the last days of my life in this place. Nothing’s worse than that. Nothing <em>can</em> be worse than that.”</p><p>Tony can’t even pretend he isn’t disheartened by her words because he is and he feels that familiar twinge of guilt that seemed omnipresent make its way to the forefront yet again.</p><p>“I’m sorry…”</p><p>“I don’t blame you for any of this dad. I don’t know how many times I have to keep telling you that. You’re just as much of victim of these crappy circumstances as I am and I know this isn’t easy for you either. I know I’m not the only one suffering…” she trails off and Tony eyes drift away from hers and instead focus on her arm that had been severely injured by the car accident. The stitches were still intact, though the bruised flesh still had a bit of discoloration and it still appeared a bit puffy from the swelling.</p><p>Tony startles only slightly when Morgan tentatively reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as she sighs.</p><p>“But it’s like you said before, we’re in this together, until the very end.”</p><p>“Yeah… we are…” Tony replies, returning a squeeze of reassurance of his own, followed by leaning down and pressing an affectionate kiss to her wrist.</p><p>Morgan lets out a small breath when he then leans in and presses a kiss to the small area beneath her belly button. He glances up at her and finds that his daughter’s hazel brown eyes that used to be filled with such unadulterated sweetness and innocence were now darkened with a primitive, almost animalistic lust.</p><p>And it was all for him, just for him, and only him. It goes straight to his head and made the rigid flesh between his legs twitch with arousal for his baby girl, burning desire for his little Morgie, the young adolescent girl that bore a striking resemblance to him, from the shade of her hazel brown eyes to the hue of her dark tresses of hair that fell to the middle of her back. Morgan was a spitting image of him in the flesh and he’d wanted her. Tony <em>wanted</em> her. He wanted her so badly it hurt, so badly it made him sick inside.</p><p>Morgan’s blunt nails are grazing through his scalp and she whimpers as he continues placing small kisses to her tummy. She repositions herself and spreads her legs suggestively.</p><p>And Tony doesn’t need further coaxing from his daughter before he expertly moves his head down between her crotch, nuzzling his face into the soft curls covering her cunt, the bridge of his nose pressing between her wet folds.</p><p>“<em>Daddy</em>,” she slurs out and he’s just barely able to make out the way his daughter threw her head back when he darts his tongue out and begins to gently suckle her clit, still wet and sensitive from her previous orgasm not even five minutes ago. “…Feels so good…” she whimpers.</p><p>Morgan leans back, resting majority of her weight on her elbows and hikes her legs up so they’re bent at the knee, all in a desperate attempt of him taking more of her into his mouth and he can’t help but groan in response to her obvious efforts and the way she opened herself up to him, so ready and willing, her labia twitching and expanding with every swift thrust of his tongue.</p><p>Morgan was dripping wet, so wet for her beloved father, and he knew she would cum again just by the strokes of his tongue and he would’ve done just that had it not been for the ache between his legs and pressure returning to his balls.</p><p>Tony moves away, getting to his knees and taking his leaking erection into his hand, giving it a few harsh strokes before he resumes his position between his daughter’s legs who practically salivates at the sight of his rigid flesh.</p><p>“That desperate for your father’s cock, Morgie?” Tony teases and Morgan wets her lips, nodding profusely as she gazes up at him, with wide eyes and mouth watering.</p><p>“Yes, <em>please</em>,” she whines, moving to lie flat on her back and spreading her legs even further apart. “Please daddy, I want it. I want it <em>so</em> bad. Give it to me. Please…”</p><p>Morgan’s unapologetic begging, her neediness for him, for his cock, for <em>him</em> had his head spinning, his heart pounding against his chest and his balls twitching as he feels his breathing hitch.</p><p>Tony couldn’t take the teasing anymore as he squeezes his cock, letting out a grunt and moving to lean over his daughter’s smaller frame in a domineering way. She whined at the feeling of his tip pressing against the small, puffy slit of her opening.</p><p>“Fuck me,” she whines, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, rolling her hips up into his, prompting him to slide all the way past her threshold until he bottoms out completely.</p><p>His jaw slackens and his eyes nearly cross at the immediate feeling of his daughter’s tight wet pussy encasing his pulsating flesh, it overwhelms him, and she’s warm and slick as he sinks inside her.</p><p>Tony knows he could cum just by the feeling alone and he isn’t sure if it was the gravity of the situation that heightened his senses or if was the taboo nature of their union or the fact that he was finally satisfying that incessant desire buried within his very core that’d been brought to light, exposed to Morgan who had forced him to reconcile with it.</p><p>However either way, Tony had known then that he’d never felt this type of feeling before. It was odd, to say the least, frightening even, but unique, astonishing, breathtaking, enthralling and goddamn was it addictive.</p><p>Tony barely gave his daughter time to adjust before he started moving, drawing out an immediate response from her as her nails dig into the skin of his back. He began to rock his hips into hers, making her breasts jiggle about, her breathing becoming labored by the second as she clung to his body for dear life.</p><p>Tony clenches his jaw as his thrusts quicken and his vision blurs slightly, feeling the goosebumps form on his skin and shivers rush up the length of his spine as his pants become heavier with every vigorous thrust of his hips.</p><p>Tony knew he wasn’t going to last long, he was way too worked up to last another minute, and with the way her wet heat was clenching around him, it didn’t come as a surprise when he did finally cum with a harsh slam of his hips to hers.</p><p>“Morgan…” he chokes out, feeling his cock pulsate as his semen paints her insides sporadically. It was so much; some of the milky white fluid began dripping down her thighs and between her cheeks.</p><p>Tony barely has time to withdraw before Morgan is pulling him down for a searing kiss, which he gladly accepts.</p><p>Tony wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that for, just lazily kissing one another, either way, Tony finds himself erect again, his swollen flesh poking into her thigh.</p><p>He watches the way his daughter begins to squirm again when he slides back in, never breaking the kiss and instead taking her by the wrists and pinning them down to the mattress on either side of her head as he fucks her, not as rushed as it was before though. Tony’s main focus this time around was getting her off and watching her come apart by the vigorous thrusts of his cock inside her.</p><p>“Daddy…” she moans, digging her nails into his skin again. “Fuck…”</p><p>“You like the way daddy’s cock makes you feel?” Tony breathes out, biting down on the area between her neck and shoulder, surely to leave behind a bruise there in his wake. “Like the way daddy fucks you?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Morgan moans out. “Don’t stop! Please don’t stop…”</p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart,” Tony replies, breathlessly, as he continues rocking into her. “…Gonna make daddy cum twice in a row. Is that what you want baby girl?”</p><p>“Cum with me daddy — <em>ah! —</em> I’m gonna cum…”</p><p>Tony groans at her words, leaning down to trail kisses down her chest, darting a tongue out across the space between her breasts.</p><p>“Gonna cum all over daddy’s cock like the naughty girl that you are?”</p><p>“I’m only — <em>fuck</em> — naughty for you.”</p><p>“You and that potty mouth of yours,” Tony grunts, feeling her clench around him as he sets a steady, vigorous pace that leaves them both breathless and a moaning mess.</p><p>“Daddy,” Morgan whines underneath him, eyes watering as he pounds her into the mattress. “I can’t—”</p><p>And he <em>feels</em> it then, feels the way her pussy spazzes around his cock, clenching around him like a suction, pulling him in deeper with every thrust and the way the heat of her cum soaks his cock, causing a wet, squelching sounds to form as he slams his hips against hers with a harshness that makes his daughter’s petite body tremble and sway back and forth with his movements.</p><p>“<em>Morgan</em>,” he moans once he feels the beginnings of his orgasm emerge. “…Morgan, fuck—”</p><p>Tony explodes inside his daughter again with a loud gasp, followed by a series of curse words and the obscene sounds of his balls slapping against her ass as he continues thrusting his hips, riding out his orgasm until his daughter had milked him for every last drop he had to offer.</p><p>“…Love you,” he hears his daughter murmur in his ear once he collapses beside her, breathless. “Love you so much…”</p><p>“I love you too,” Tony breathes out as she curls up to his side. He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead with a sigh. “I love you too…”</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. 9. biohazard butterflies blossom in the wake of despair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“I try to fight this, but I know I’m not that strong<br/>I need your love, I need your time<br/>When everything’s wrong, you make it right<br/>I feel so high, I come alive<br/>I need to be free with you tonight<br/>I need your love<br/>I feel so helpless here<br/>Watch my eyes are filled with fear<br/>Tell me, do you feel the same?<br/>Hold me in your arms again<br/>I need to be free”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Morgan had <em>finally</em> did it. She didn’t know how, but she did and she was glad.</p><p>Morgan had finally plowed down her father’s walls of denial, broke him down, brought him to his knees and wore him down enough to reconcile with his desires, desires he’d actively denied even existed, and finally made him acknowledge them and come to terms with them like she already had.</p><p>Morgan, of course, doesn’t doubt that the hope and faith her father had once stubbornly clung to had begun to dwindle the longer they remained in this horrific, ugly place that was their reality; in solitude, isolated from the outside world, left to their own devices.</p><p>The growing weariness of their situation definitely had played a part in tearing down those walls her father had built up for himself and factored into the reasoning behind why he’d finally given in, no longer possessing the strength to fight it any longer, no longer having that undying hope that things would get better. It was obvious to her that her father’s faith was on a steady decline.</p><p>The foundation of everything he’d once believed in was crumbling and Morgan knew her father was beginning to lose himself in the madness of it all; the circumstances began to eat away at him, chip away at his very existence just as it had with her.</p><p>Morgan was the weaker one out of the two, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was. Of course she’d been the one to crumble under the pressure first, she’s never been under <em>this</em> type of pressure ever in her life and it was traumatizing to say the least. It was a given that she’d be the first out of them both to lose her mind at some point.</p><p>Her father was <em>a lot</em> stronger — both physically and mentally, had the better stamina and endurance, so she knew him giving in was not much of a good sign in the grand scheme of things because it signified that her last and only hope of getting out of this hellhole alive was beginning to have doubts and that was never good.</p><p>But for right now, it was a minor victory because although the sex would never make up for their horrid circumstances, for her lack of hearing in her left ear that utterly <em>sucked</em>, it did make things a little less insufferable, she had to admit.</p><p>They didn’t argue as much anymore like they had before, though they still had their back and forth banters, it wasn’t nearly as intense as it was before. Morgan contributed this to the fact that all of that tension and energy had been exerted during their more intense sessions of vigorous sex, which was quite often and quite rough at times, but nothing she couldn’t handle.</p><p>Morgan had been thankful they hadn’t had any unexpected visitors, not since that very first time her father had intercourse with her to save her from being gang raped. Their assailants hadn’t returned since and Morgan had been glad. It was a nice break; her father had healed up quite nicely from the beatings he’d endured whenever they would come.</p><p>Their bruises were fading, becoming a distant memory, even though the emotional scars would last forever, long after the physical evidence of it disappeared from their bodies.</p><p>Morgan had never known much about sex or foreplay, though she wouldn’t consider herself completely naive, she <em>can </em>admit that she had been quite sheltered. The only time she’d shown interest in sex was when she’d gotten her first boyfriend, Miles Camarillo.</p><p>But now that she was beginning to explore her sexuality in ways she never had before with her very own father (the absolute <em>last </em>person she <em>ever</em> expected to experience <em>this </em>with), naturally, she’d gotten curious, and her father, though hesitant at first, did eventually oblige and indulged her curiosities whenever she asked.</p><p>And her father had an <em>extensive</em> catalog of knowledge where sex was concerned. Morgan was initially shocked by that fact, but then she began to wonder why she was when her father had been known to be an infamous womanizer in his youth, various women from his past bragging about how good he was in bed to gossip rags that would listen. Her father had been labeled all sorts of outlandish things by the media, but never once did any one of those women deny that he was an exceptional lover.</p><p>Her father had begun to open her mind up to things she never even knew about, never even considered, much less thought about. He knew what he was doing, that much was obvious, just by the amount of times he could make her cum in a matter of minutes.</p><p>Morgan sought knowledge from him; she desired to know everything there was to know about sex, about the different ways to make a person cum, the different sexual positions to fuck, all of the things that made her father <em>tick</em>, the things that set him off and would make him blush uncontrollably.</p><p>Morgan enjoyed making her father blush. It was rare, but when she did, she savored those brief moments of joy and triumph. But even then, Morgan had still been so desperate for her father’s validation, she wanted to please him and she often felt paranoid about whether or not she was doing enough, if <em>she</em> was enough.</p><p>Morgan had never felt so… insecure like this before. She never questioned whether her father loved her or not, she knew he did, but she couldn’t help but think about all of those beautiful, modelesque women who he’d once been with and she found that she was often comparing herself to them, her adolescent body to those women, and whether or not she pleased her father as good as they had.</p><p>It was the stupidest thing because not once had her father ever indicated he wasn’t satisfied, the evidence of his cum dripping down her thighs, belly and mouth should have been evidence enough for her.</p><p>But still, she couldn’t help but worry about whether she was doing everything right, whether she was fucking him the way he wanted to be fucked, the <em>way</em> he liked to be fucked.</p><p>Morgan was aware of three things that she was sure drove her father absolutely insane. One of them is when she would blow him. She begged her father to teach her how to properly give head that led to satisfactory results and with enough pestering, he finally relented and showed her the proper way to give a mind-blowing blowjob.</p><p>It was honestly a series of trial and error for her, but once she got the hang of it and stopped slicing him up with her teeth or gagging the moment his cock went just a bit too far back in her throat, she was unstoppable.</p><p>Morgan learned quickly how to deep throat her father’s cock, expertly suppressing her gag reflex while taking great pleasure in the way he would lose it when she would play with his balls, which would usually send him over the edge.</p><p>Her father liked to watch her as he face fucked her, loved to tug on her hair and thrust his cock into her mouth until the tip consistently brushed past the back of her throat. She would usually hold onto his hips or grip his thighs that felt muscular between her fingers to steady herself.</p><p>Another thing she knew that would drive her father mad is when she would touch herself, play with her pussy in front of him, and he would watch with a dark glint in his eyes as the red glow of the small room illuminated over his face in a devilish way with a mixture between envy and lust at the mere fact that she could get herself off without him.</p><p>Her father loved to watch her spread her legs and slip her dainty fingers into the slick folds of her wet pussy, observing the way her middle finger swirled around her clit until she came apart by the stroke of her own fingers.</p><p>Morgan could’ve sworn she’d caught her father salivating more times than one while watching the show she would put on for him, sometimes at his own request.</p><p>And then, it was when he’d first asked her to sit on his face. Morgan was confused by his request, but obeyed anyway, because she’d never have the heart to tell her father no, not that she ever had the desire to anyway.</p><p>Oh, how her father found <em>immense</em> delight in the way she’d crush him with her ass to his face, the way he would salivate over the prospect of being smothered by her “pretty wet pussy” (his words, not hers).</p><p>Morgan had some of her most memorable orgasms while perched on his face as he laps his tongue between her folds, tongue pressing inside her warm heat. Or when she would straddle his face and ride his tongue until she was spilling into his mouth with a loud cry of his name on her lips.</p><p>But sometimes... her father would simply enjoy lying on that old tattered mattress, their naked forms bathed red from the eerie glow of the light bulbs dangling from above, and kiss her breath away. The kisses were sweet, loving and innocent, sometimes lazy and a little on the sloppy side if they were too exhausted after a vigorous round of rough sex.</p><p>Those moments between them were the most peaceful and she relished in them as often as she could. Her father would tangle his fingers in her hair, sometimes twirling a strand around his finger while his tongue danced with hers, his goatee would always tickle her skin, but she didn’t mind, she’d grown used to the feeling of his growing facial hair and found comfort in it.</p><p>Morgan was still in the process of learning, but needless to say, the sex provided as a great distraction from their impending doom. Somehow, Morgan had felt much closer to her father than she ever had before, which was saying a lot, considering the fact that out of both her mother and father, she’d always been much closer to her father. Morgan had always been a daddy’s girl and everyone knew it.</p><p>However, the delight (no matter how short-lived it was) she felt was quickly stifled when her period eventually came. She’d awakened from her slumber to something wet and sticky between her thighs.</p><p>When she’d seen the blood, she was glad she didn’t leak onto the mattress and slipped out of her father’s grasp to wash up with the small towel floating in the bucket water across the room.</p><p>Morgan hadn’t a clue how long they'd been left in captivity for, but she knew she hadn’t gotten her period while here until now, so either they’d been here longer than Morgan was inclined to believe or the overall stress of the situation had stalled off her monthly menstruation, which she hoped was the case rather than the former.</p><p>Either way, she had no idea how this would work without pads or tampons, or ibuprofen and Tylenol, because she knew her cramps could get so intense she wouldn’t want to get out of bed to do anything.</p><p>One thing’s for sure, Morgan made it a point to keep her distance from her father as she settled in the corner near the bucket of water with her knees pulled up to her chest, dozing off to sleep yet again. The situation was awkward and uncomfortable enough, the last thing she wanted was to add fuel to an already lit fire.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>The tension in the air was thick and evident between Morgan and her father. The arguments started back up and the dissension between them was rather intense.</p><p>Morgan hadn’t told her father why she’d suddenly cut him off from her, why she’d avoided being anywhere near him, why she flinched away from his touch, why she wouldn’t let him touch her.</p><p>Morgan knows the logical decision would’ve been to tell her father the truth about her condition, about how badly she was cramping, how sore and tender her breasts were, how much she wanted him to hold her close, but was too scared to ask.</p><p>All her father knew was that she was being distant towards him, giving him the cold shoulder, and she should’ve known her father would take it to heart, would blame himself for her change of behavior, even if it had nothing to do with him.</p><p>It was the source of the underlining tension between them and what led to many nonsensical arguments between them.</p><p>“...Why’d you do that?”</p><p>Morgan frowns, crumpling up the plastic cup in her hand and tossing it aside.</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>Morgan can already tell by her father’s tone of voice where this would lead, but she indulges her father anyway, truly hoping that she was wrong.</p><p>“You know what. You drank that entire cup of water by yourself. You could’ve offered me a sip.”</p><p>“I asked if you wanted some and you said no — <em>twice. </em>What was I supposed to do? Let it go to waste?”</p><p>“Just because I said no doesn’t mean I didn’t change my mind.”</p><p>“Well then why didn’t you say anything?”</p><p>“I thought you would be polite enough to offer before you finally gobbled it down without a second thought.”</p><p>“You’re just trying to pick an argument with me because I asked you and you said no. If it was that serious, you could’ve spoken up if you changed your mind like you claim.”</p><p>“You’ve become so selfish,” Tony retorts in a surly tone of voice. “Is there a moment where you don’t <em>solely</em> think about yourself? We are both in dire need of as much water and nutrition as we can get. If something happens to me, you really think you’ll be able to survive by yourself?” Tony scoffs, obviously trying to get under her skin and rile her up. Needless to say, it was working.</p><p>“And you’ve become an asshole. Oh, wait, that’s what you already <em>are</em>. It’s what most people say about you behind your back anyway.” She scoffs, ignoring the incensed look appearing on her father’s face. “Can’t say they’re wrong about that one…”</p><p>“You know you probably wouldn’t amount to much if you weren’t my offspring? Most wouldn’t give a damn about you if you weren’t coasting off this asshole’s last name and all the opportunities it’s afforded your ungrateful, bratty ass.”</p><p>“I don’t need your last name for shit. Everything I’ve accomplished, it’s because of my own hard work.”</p><p>Tony laughs in a derisive manner; her fists balled up so tight her knuckles were whitening by the second.</p><p>“You’re not as smart as I credit you to be if you truly believe that bullshit. You wouldn’t be shit without me. Hell, you wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for me!”</p><p>“Well, that certainly explains why everything I hate about myself I see in you.”</p><p>It wasn’t true, but at this point, it didn’t matter whether it was the truth or not, she aimed those words at him in hopes of hurting him with the same savage fierceness he had hurt her with his words that had cut like a knife.</p><p>“I guess the feelings are mutual then.”</p><p>Morgan stares at her father, already feeling a lump forming in her throat as tears burn at the corner of her eyes.</p><p>“I think I would rather die than spend another second here with you.”</p><p>“Then what are you waiting for?” He snarls.</p><p>Morgan calls her father’s bluff when she begins tugging at the stitches in her arm, ignoring the twinge of pain as she does so. It was still in the process of healing, but the skin and flesh were still a bit tender and sore where the stitches were mending the ruptured, bruised flesh back together.</p><p>“…What’re you doing?”</p><p>She ignores her father’s faux concern and proceeds to tug at the string that stuck out from her stitches, tugging at it until her arm began to ache and fresh blood began to fill up in the small openings of her mutilated flesh.</p><p>“Morgan, don’t be stupid — <em>stop!</em>”</p><p>Morgan ignores her father’s protests as tears blur her vision, watching as her own blood; a dark, crimson color, oozing from the broken skin, soaking her stitches entirely.</p><p>“Morgan!”</p><p>“Leave me alone!”</p><p>“Are you insane?” Tony shrieks. “You could bleed to death!”</p><p>“How perceptive of you,” Morgan ridicules with a roll of her eyes. “That’s sort of the point!”</p><p>“Stop it!”</p><p>“Not until you stop acting like you care! You and I both know that you don’t!”</p><p>“Morgan, you know that’s not true!”</p><p>“Really? I’m not so sure anymore…”</p><p>“Morgan—”</p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p>Her father appears visibly startled by her words.</p><p>“Don’t say that.”</p><p>“Why? It’s the truth.”</p><p>“No, it’s not.” He replies with a heavy sigh as she watches her father move across the small room to sit beside her. He reaches for her arm and she flinches away. “Morgan, give me your arm.”</p><p>“No…” she whimpers out as a single tear falls from her lashes, splashing down onto her cheek as she blinks up at her father.</p><p>“Morgan,” he says in a tone that is soft, mellifluous and tender. His hazel eyes are open and gentle; her heart flutters at the way her father was looking at her and she almost hates the way she crumbles under his gaze, how susceptible she became to him in an instant despite the fact that she was still upset at her father and the gut-wrenching words he’d hurled at her not even ten minutes ago. “…Please…”</p><p>She doesn’t push her father away when he reaches for her arm again, gently taking it into his hand, examining the self-inflicted reopening of her own wound and attempting to clean up the horrid mess she’d made.</p><p>Morgan quietly watches her father clean the blood that had trickled down her arm with the small damp towel. She wipes her eyes, chewing on her bottom lip, sniffling. He glances up at her and sighs.</p><p>“…You know I didn’t mean any of those things I said. You were right; I was just being an asshole. I had no right to talk to you like that Morgan… I’m sorry.”</p><p>“…I shouldn’t have called you an asshole…”</p><p>“But it was true,” he chuckles, which draws out a reluctant smile from her as she hides her face behind her knees that were pressed against her chest.</p><p>It falls silent between them, a peaceful silence, and Morgan continues watching her father, the way he touches her with a gentleness that brings about pleasant butterflies in her belly, like she was glass he was afraid he’d break if he was too rough. It reminded her of when she’d been a little girl and would injure herself whether at school, on the playground or simply toying around in her room. Her father would always be there to lick her wounds and nurse her back to health. Morgan was a bit of an accident-prone child and it drove her parents crazy.</p><p>Her mother would always admonish her for not being careful enough, but her father would always fret over her, cater to whatever her wants and needs were, whether it was allowing her to stay up past her bedtime or allowing her sweets before dinner, or simply staying by her side until she fell asleep, her father would do it. Morgan savored those moments and reveled in her father’s undivided attention.</p><p>“…I started my period.” She blurts out, breaking the serene silence between them as he looks up at her. “I should’ve said something about it sooner, but… I guess I was embarrassed. It’s why I’ve been… distant lately.”</p><p>“Oh…” her father says and his reaction makes her wish the ground would open up and swallow her whole. “That certainly explains a lot…”</p><p>“I’m sorry, for the things I said to you and for not being honest. All of this could’ve been prevented if I would’ve just been truthful from the beginning.”</p><p>“You were embarrassed, though you had no reason to be, I understand.” He continues to gently dab the damp towel near her stitches. “…How’re you feeling?”</p><p>“You really want to know?” She asks with quirked brows.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” he replies indignantly. “Maybe there’s something I can do to help.”</p><p>Morgan sighs, feigning annoyance, even though she appreciates her father’s eagerness to help her in any way that he can. She didn’t know why she thought his reaction would be anything other than desire to be supportive and helpful in her time of need. It was right up her father’s alley. This is how it always was with him since she was a little girl. It was a large part of the reason why he’d always been her favorite parent, though she knew she’d never tell a soul that, least of all her mother.</p><p>“…Cramps, bellyache and sore breasts.” She answers, slightly flushing at the expression on her father’s face as he looks at her with raised brows. “…What? Why’re you looking at me like that?”</p><p>Morgan gets her answer when she finds herself sprawled out on her back, staring up at her father hazily as he hovers above her, resting majority of his weight on his hands positioned on either side of her, careful not to crush her.</p><p>Morgan moans when she feels her father’s tongue swirl around her tender nipples, the palm of his hands rubbing soothing circles onto her belly, her eyes slowly blinking up at him as she watches him wet her nipples with his saliva.</p><p>Her fingers grip his hair when she feels his erection probe at her entrance.</p><p>“Dad…” she whimpers.</p><p>He leans up, one hand still gently pressed to her belly while the other moves to grip his cock.</p><p>“…Back in my college days, I took a female anatomy class — mostly for shits and giggles — but I ended up learning <em>a lot</em> of useful information about the female body. Like, for instance, do you know what is said to help alleviate painful period cramps?”</p><p>Morgan blinks up at him and shakes her head, swallowing thickly as she could feel the pressure of his tip pressing into her.</p><p>“…N-No.”</p><p>“Dick,” he replies and the hand pressed against her belly resumes rubbing and assuaging away the slight ache she felt in her lower abdomen. “It can help mollify the pain.”</p><p>Morgan’s eyes slightly widen at the implication of her father’s words as a sly smile appears across his lips at her reaction, his eyes conveying a dark desire within them that she could not recall ever seeing in them beforehand.</p><p>“But… but what about—”</p><p>“Blood? It can serve as excellent lubrication, which can make the sex that much better, not to mention, the sensitivity of a female’s body is at an all-time high when she’s menstruating.”</p><p>“…But… you’re not grossed out by it? It doesn’t freak you out—”</p><p>“No. It’s a part of the natural process of the female body. It’s a beautiful thing, really.”</p><p>She moans when she suddenly feels her father’s cock slide past her thresholds with ease, pausing halfway in as she already begins to pant at the sensation.</p><p>“Okay?”</p><p>Morgan nods and he slides the rest of the way in, leaning down and darting a tongue out to circle her erect nipple before gently taking the sensitive bud into his mouth yet again.</p><p>When he begins to move, the sparks of pleasure are instantaneous, wondrous, and magical. Morgan cannot even hide it, could not contain her exhilaration, her unadulterated pleasure of being penetrated by her father’s cock. Morgan could feel her vaginal walls expanding and contracting to accommodate the girth of his pulsating flesh stretching her open.</p><p>The fact that her father wasn’t at all put off by her the way she assumed he would be only contributed to her pleasure, to her already heightened senses.</p><p>“Daddy,” she moans out, over the slippery wet sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of her at a steady pace. “…Daddy… feels so good… <em>ah—</em>”</p><p>“You missed daddy’s cock Morgan?” Her father pants out. “As much as daddy’s missed your tight wet pussy?”</p><p>She whines and his hand clasp down on one of her jiggling breasts, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. He leans down, their faces inches apart, and growls.</p><p>“Nearly drove me insane cutting me off like that, depriving me of this sweet wet pussy.” Her father groans as he rocks against her. “...Promise me you won’t do it again Morgan... that you won’t keep it from me.”</p><p>When she doesn’t answer, he slaps her thigh, in a way that instantly reminded her of those old western cowboy films she would watch with her father when she was too young to dress herself, and it evokes a whine from her in response.</p><p>“<em>Morgan</em>—” he snarls.</p><p>“I won’t do it again,” she whimpers out, already feeling the mounting pressure in her abdomen the deeper he goes, the <em>harder</em> he thrusts. “I promise…”</p><p>He closes the gap between them and she would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the scratchiness of her father’s beard or the swiftness of his tongue always in a seemingly endless battle against hers.</p><p>And Morgan cums with a loud cry of ecstasy, her body writhing underneath her father’s as she clenches around his cock that continues pumping inside of her, over and over again, followed by audible squelching sounds that echo the small room.</p><p>“Morgan,” her father groans, breathing heavily, eyes wild with uninhibited lust and animalistic desire. “…Fuck!”</p><p>Morgan dug her nails into her father’s arm when she felt his cock spurt that warm, honeyed fluid into her. He nipped at the skin of her neck as he groaned loudly in her ear.</p><p>When he pulled his head back to look at her, breathless, she pulls him in for a salacious kiss, sloppy and wet it was. He doesn’t move from her embrace, only settles between her legs, resting his weight on his elbows. She wraps her thighs around his waist, feeling something sticky trickle down between her cheeks.</p><p>She moans at the feeling, running her blunt fingernails through her father’s scalp, tugging on the short strands of hair as he nips at her bottom lip.</p><p>“...Feeling any better?” </p><p>“Way better,” she replies, breathlessly and with an eagerness that has heat rising up her chest and face.</p><p>Her father laughs and she offers him a sheepish smile, blushing uncontrollably. </p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan lets out a high pitched moan as her nails pierce into the skin of her father’s torso as she rocks her hips against his face, his tongue lapping between her soft warm folds enthusiastically.</p><p>Her long, wavy brown tresses of hair fell over her shoulders, damp with sweat as she leans forward, eyes glistening as she watches the way her father’s cock twitches and subsequently curl into his navel.</p><p>“Mmm… Daddy...” she whimpers, feeling her father’s beard brush against the ultrasensitive skin between her thighs.</p><p>Morgan feels hot all over, almost overheated, her skin was damp with perspiration, her eyes glazed over and half-hooded as she gazed up at the dangling light bulbs above them that glowed red.</p><p>Morgan was beginning to hate the color red, hate this room, hate their circumstances, hate small spaces, hate herself. She was beginning to hate a lot of things she never thought she would... Morgan was changing, her heart becoming hardened, her spirit weighed down by her growing pessimism of the situation, her mind becoming consumed with warped thoughts and visions of dark entities she felt were watching her with sharp, critical eyes with the intention to harm.</p><p>The only thing that brought her joy, the <em>only</em> thing that made her forget about their captors returning to further torture their exhausted, dehydrated and iron deficient bodies, the<em> only</em> person that brought her some semblance of peace... was her father.</p><p>Morgan should’ve hated herself for how quickly she was to get on her knees for her father or crawl between his legs and suck him off, how loud she was when she would beg him to fuck her harder, how eager she was to sit on his face and smother him with her ass as he ate her out.</p><p>He was her <em>father</em>, the man she’s idolized since she was a little girl, the man who doted on her every chance he got, whose blood pumped through her veins, the man who helped bring her into this world.</p><p>Morgan knew it was wrong, knew that the act of desiring her father in the way that she did was repulsive, that craving her father’s cock was all types of vile and morally fucked up as well as enjoying the taste of his tongue in her mouth and in her pussy as much as she did was a guaranteed one-way trip to hell.</p><p>“Oh, fuck daddy, right there…” Morgan moans, rocking her hips faster, visibly shivering as she feels her father’s tongue swirl around her clit. “Mmm…”</p><p>But, maybe hell was better than this. It <em>had</em> to be. <em>Nothing</em> could be worse than rotting away in this dump — destitute, isolated and held captive, if not tortured by their captors 24/7; it was their minds, which, in all honestly, wasn’t a better alternative by a long shot.</p><p>Morgan had yet to divulge to her father the blue apparitions she had begun to see in fear of the fact that he wouldn’t believe her, that he would think she was losing it, that she was crazy. Maybe a part of her was going crazy, but she <em>knew</em> what she was seeing and it scared her to death.</p><p>The apparitions she would see, were blue in color, with the silhouettes of a human, but they weren’t human, Morgan knew that much. They had no face, no distinctive features, but Morgan knew that whatever they were, they meant her ill-will, she could feel it. That distinctive energy whenever those malevolent entities would make themselves known was always dark and spine-chilling. She would always cling to her father for protection because they would always seem to leave her be whenever he would wake from his slumber and would always return whenever he was asleep.</p><p>It was sort of frightening because whenever those blue apparitions would appear, she would always feel off, a chill to her bones that would often cause a tremble in her body in response to whatever that awful feeling was and she would experience a specific pressure — a weight on her chest that would paralyze her to the ground, tears springing to her eyes as her mind would fill with endless ways she could end her life, end her misery, end her suffering, right then and there, once and for all.</p><p>Those depressive feelings and lethal thoughts would come and go. Morgan would always feel tempted to confide in her father about what was going on, but the fear that gripped her of what his reaction would be always gave her a pause and she would therefore make the conscious decision to keep her mouth shut as a result, suffering in silence.</p><p>The absolute <em>last</em> thing Morgan ever wanted was for her father to begin to question her sanity the way she often did as of recent, even if she believed what she saw to be real and not necessarily figments of her imagination like she so badly hoped they were. Those blue apparitions were much scarier than any deranged image her mind could ever conjure up.</p><p>Morgan lets out an audible whine when she cums by the harsh deep drag of her father’s tongue across the sensitive flesh between her slick folds, right into his awaiting mouth as his fingers press into the skin of her hips to steady the rocking of her hips against his face.</p><p>When Morgan eventually collapses beside her father with labored breaths, she thinks she sees stars, painted red, falling from above. She watches them scatter in the air and glisten from the light of the red bulbs hanging above them. She blinks and they’re gone in an instant. The sound of something wet and fleshy causes her to turn her head to the side where she heard the noise come from.</p><p>Her father was masturbating. Morgan sits up and glares at her father as he lets out an obnoxiously loud groan as he strokes himself with earnest.</p><p>“I was going to take care of that.”</p><p>“Don’t sweat it baby doll, daddy’s got it covered.” He sneers.</p><p>Morgan scowls at her father, feeling a sense of vertigo as she gets to her knees, nudging her father’s hands away from his wet cock that glistened from the pre-cum that oozed from his tip. She swings one of her legs over her father’s hips with her back facing him, straddling him and grasping his erection in her hand and giving it a few brief strokes before aligning it with her entrance.</p><p>Her heart pounded against her chest at a rapid speed as she brushed the top of his cock between her folds, his slit nudging against her clit, eliciting breathless moans from the both of them.</p><p>“Don’t tease me honey.” Her father grunts from behind, the pads of his fingers trailing down the length of her spine, followed by grasping a fistful of her hair in his hand, tugging at the wavy strands so her head tilts back a bit as a result. “Give it to me like you know I want it, like you know I <em>need</em> it.”</p><p>He thrusts his hips up and she moans as the top of his cock slides against her wet, sensitive clit, still very much overstimulated from his tongue that had previously been suckling on it only a few short minutes ago.</p><p>Morgan chews on her bottom lip, lifting her hips a bit as she aligns his cock with her entrance, taking her sweet time sinking down onto her father’s cock, her vaginal walls clenching around the pulsating flesh buried deep within her wet caverns.</p><p>When she begins to move, adjusting to the familiar sensations of her father’s cock stretching her open, he cries out when she began to ride him in reverse cowgirl.</p><p>“Morgan,” her father groans, digging his short blunt nails into the skin of her back. “<em>…</em>Fuck<em>—</em>”</p><p>“Better than your hands ever could be, huh?” Morgan mocks with a smirk on her lips as she leans forward, flattening out the palm of her hands pressed against the mattress, making sure to give her father an exemplary view of her jiggling ass (that she knew her father loved <em>oh</em> so much) and the back of her pussy and the way her slick folds wrap around his cock as she rides him with an enthusiasm that leaves them desperately panting, practically delirious with pleasure.</p><p>“Ride me baby doll, just like daddy’s taught you.”</p><p>Her father was panting, already winded and out of breath, Morgan could instantly tell he wasn’t going to last very long, just by the tone of his voice and the heaviness of his labored breaths coming from behind her as he held onto her hips that gyrated on top of him.</p><p>Morgan was beginning to be able to identify the signs of when her father was at his wit’s end, tilting over the edge, and tittering inches away from an utter and complete meltdown. Morgan was eagerly learning her father’s body, all of his ticks and what drove him mad with sexual desire and what got him off faster than anything else.</p><p>When she focused all of her energy on what pleased her father to no end, she wouldn’t have to languish over their circumstances, sulk about what their captors had in-store for them, or agonize over her fear of the blue apparitions waiting for her as soon as her father closed his eyes to rest or the type of reaction her father would have if he woke up to find her dead body beside him.</p><p>Would he cry? Morgan couldn’t recall a time in her life where she <em>ever</em> witnessed her father shed tears. Would he cry for her if she died? Would he resent her for leaving him all alone? Would he hate her for ending her life and letting their enemies win?</p><p>The grip her father has on her hips tighten; almost painfully so, thrusting himself up into her. Morgan yelps when her father sits up, leaning forward and wrapping one arm around her torso and in one swift motion, he’s flipping their positions so that she was lying on her tummy, face pressed into the mattress and her father was taking her from the back, pounding away as he chased his own pleasure, not at all deterred by the obscene sounds of their naked flesh coming together with each vigorous thrust of his hips.</p><p>Morgan moans when she feels her father’s balls smacking against the sensitive skin between her thighs. When her father cums, she whimpers when she feels much of it drizzle down her thighs, causing a sticky mess of his cum between her legs. She squeaks when she manages to turn her gaze over her shoulder to find her father kneeling down and using his tongue clean up the mess he’d made.</p><p>She moans, spreading her thighs a bit, which causes more cum to ooze out. She strains her neck to watch her father’s tongue glide across her skin and between her cheeks. Finally, she rolls onto her back and spreads her legs.</p><p>Morgan arches her back and draws one of her legs up as her father’s tongue flicks over her clit, where his cum had dripped, encircling the sensitive bud. Morgan’s body writhed when her father’s used his index finger and thumb to tug at pink flesh until she came again, wetting his fingers with her honeyed nectar.</p><p>He left soft kisses around her inner thighs and stomach before he slithered back up her body and wiggled his fingers in her face that glistened under the light, sticky with her fluids.</p><p>“...Wanna taste of daddy’s fingers, baby doll?”                                                                                                         </p><p>Morgan opens her mouth and he chuckles, slipping the wet digits into her awaiting mouth and groaning as her tongue swirls around them eagerly.</p><p>“Atta girl…” he murmurs, watching her with wide, lustful eyes.</p><p>Morgan had grown quite fond of that glint in her father’s eyes, of pure, unadulterated lust, just for her, only for her. It made something pleasant and heartwarming flutter throughout her body in response.</p><p>Her father eventually replaced his fingers in her mouth with his tongue. She wraps her arms around him, using one hand to rake her fingers through his hair and the other to drag her nails down the length of his spine that was wet with perspiration.</p><p>“…Love you,” her father whispers out breathlessly once he pulls away from their kiss. “Love you so much…”</p><p>“Love you more,” she replies, gazing up at her father with sleepy bedroom eyes. A soft smile graces his tired face as he leans down to kiss her cheek before sighing and resting his head on her chest.</p><p>“Impossible.”</p><p>“The truth? Yes. Impossible? Not even.”</p><p>A pregnant silence ensues between the two. Morgan’s blinking up at the ceiling exasperatedly. She was just about to give into her exhaustion before her father spoke up, breaking the serene silence between them.</p><p>“…Morgan?”</p><p>“Yes daddy?” She yawns.</p><p>“…”</p><p>When she doesn’t immediately get a response, she turns her eyes away from gazing up at the popcorn ceiling and onto her father, whose hair is the only thing in her immediate line of vision.</p><p>The hand that was already buried in his hair gently tugs on a few strands to attract his attention.</p><p>“…Dad?”</p><p>“…I hate myself for the things I’ve done to you.”</p><p>Morgan frowns at her father’s words.</p><p>“…What? Why? You haven’t done anything to me, nothing I didn’t already want.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t <em>want</em> to have sex with your father Morgan. It’s not natural. It’s not right—”</p><p>“Haven’t we been over this already?” Morgan grumbles with an annoyed roll of her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you that you haven’t made me do anything I didn’t want to happen? If anything, <em>I’m </em>the one that did majority of the persuading. Not the other way around.”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter. I’m the adult Morgan. I should know better. It should’ve taken <em>a lot</em> more than <em>that</em> to convince me to… to…”</p><p>Morgan sighs.</p><p>“You can’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed it… even if just a little bit.”</p><p>“That’s not the point.” He grumbles irritability.</p><p>“Then what <em>is</em> the point? I don’t get fretting over something that’s already been done. We can’t change what’s already taken place, we can’t ignore it, we can’t pretend it’s not what either of us wanted, because we both know that’s not true.”</p><p>“…I should’ve been stronger. I shouldn’t have given in. I should’ve—”</p><p>“If you hate it so much, if you hate touching me so much, we don’t have to do it anymore. We don’t ever have to touch each other again as far as I am concerned. You won’t be burdened by ever having to touch me, kiss me or fuck me ever again, that way, you’re conscious will be clear and you won’t have to bitch about it to me anymore.”</p><p>“Morgan,” he sighs, lifting his head up to look at her. “Morgan, you know that’s not what I meant—”</p><p>“Then what <em>do</em> you mean? The only thing I can deduct from what you say is that you don’t enjoy it, that you hate it, hate <em>me—</em>”</p><p>“I don’t hate you. I can never hate you Morgan. It’s just…”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“…It doesn’t bother you? It doesn’t weird you out just a little bit? It doesn’t gross you out when you think about it? That you lost your virginity to your own father? It doesn’t make you upset? It doesn’t make you resent me?”</p><p>Morgan shakes her head.</p><p>“No. It doesn’t. If anything, it made me see you in a different light, in a way I never had before. I feel closer to you dad. And I would’ve rather lost my virginity to you than to be gang raped. If I had to do it over again, I’d always choose you. You were a thousand times better than the alternative.”</p><p>Her father’s face visibly softens as he gazes up at her, eyes droopy from lack of adequate rest. He reached a hand out and gently brushed it against her cheek, sighing.</p><p>“…I couldn’t let them do that to you Morgan. I couldn’t stand there and watch them hurt you again.”</p><p>“I’m glad you didn’t…” she whispers, outlining his features with the pads of her fingers. “…Dad?”</p><p>“Mmm…?”</p><p>“…I love you.”</p><p>A ghost of a smile graces his face and it’s only then that she realizes how long it’s been since she’s last seen it and she blushes, immediately reminded by how pretty it is.</p><p>“I love you too Morgie.”</p><p>“No. No, I mean…” she struggles to find the right words to properly express to her father what she’d been feeling since they’d started this… <em>thing</em> they had going. She wasn’t even 100% sure if she should even tell her father what she’d been feeling. He would just blame himself even more than he already had and she didn’t want to pile onto his already guilty conscious. Besides, it was a very slim chance her father felt the same. He didn’t. Morgan knew he didn’t, so what would be the point in telling him if it would only make things more complicated than they already are?</p><p>She sighs.</p><p>“Never mind.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” He asks, blinking up at her with furrowed brows. “What is it?”</p><p>“Nothing. It’s nothing dad. It’s nothing.”</p><p>He doesn’t look all that convinced just by the way his brows knit together questioningly. So, with the little strength she had left in her tank, she flips their positions so that her father is lying on his back and she’s hovering atop of him and he staring up at her with dilated pupils.</p><p>Her hair dangles over him and he reaches a hand out to tug at a long strand, twirling it around his finger. He loved doing that, tangling his fingers in her hair, tugging at it as they fucked or were in the middle of their intense make out sessions.</p><p>He often said that her hair was one of his favorite features of hers because of how full, long and thick it was, along with her pretty pink lips and nicely rounded ass.</p><p>Morgan had always thought her father’s best feature were his eyes accompanied by his long, curly lashes that surrounded them. They were beautiful, majestic and mesmerizing. She thinks that is part of the reason she could never resist him, not that she ever wanted to and why she’d fallen for him so pathetically <em>hard</em>.</p><p>“…Kiss me daddy,” she says in a titillating tone of voice that she knew had always drove him crazy. “I want your tongue in my mouth again. What d’ya say?”</p><p>Her father feigns contemplation as he looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully.</p><p>“I don’t have any objections. I should, but I can’t say that I do.”</p><p>Morgan giggles and he closes the gap between them as he pulls her down for a salacious kiss.</p><p>Things were somewhat okay for now and Morgan had no intentions on ruining what they had. It was the only good thing that she could cling to while possessing a permanent seat in this hellhole.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 10. Silver Lion</h2></a>
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  <em>“Oh, silver lion<br/>Playing my mind<br/>I’m in this ring of fire<br/>Roaring between our ears<br/>Overflow, underflow<br/>Lions just everywhere<br/>Should I just leave it alone?<br/>I can’t, won’t decide<br/>Should I just walk in your fire?<br/>Silver lion<br/>It wants to enter my mind<br/>I want to pretend<br/>Should I just leave it alone?<br/>Why won’t you show your claws to me?”<em></em></em>
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  <em>“The search continues for the missing father and daughter duo, forty-six year old Tony Stark, chief executive officer of fortune 500 company Stark Industries and his fifteen-year old daughter Morgan Stark who went missing this past Spring after what appeared to be a fatal car accident while passing through an intersection. Five months have passed and there hasn’t been any promising leads as to what exactly took place on that fateful weekend for the unlucky two—”</em>
</p><p>“You shouldn’t be watching that,” James interjects, startling the woman who was perched in front of the wide television screen as he exits the kitchen and reaches for the remote, cutting off the television. “It’s not going to lift your spirits in any fashion so there’s no point in torturing yourself by watching the depressing news almost every day.”</p><p>“It’s been five months James — <em>five months!</em> — and they haven’t procured any additional information in regards to the case. I won’t be able to rest until I know what happened to my husband and daughter.”</p><p>“Pepper,” James sighs, taking a seat beside her on the leather sofa. “…I know how hard this has been for you, but you have to start taking better care of yourself, not only for yourself but for the baby as well. You’re five months pregnant. It’s not just you this is taking a harsh toll on anymore.”</p><p>Pepper unconsciously runs a hand across the relatively small swell of her belly at the mention of the little one growing inside of her.</p><p>Pepper had still been in a state of shock concerning her condition. It’s just… <em>not</em> what she expected to happen. She had been in blatant denial of the possibility. She ignored all of the signs that normally would’ve been red flags for her, but she’d been too engulfed in her own thoughts and feelings and adjusting to a life without her husband and daughter in it that she hadn’t been paying attention to the changes her body had been undergoing these past few months.</p><p>It was James that had been the one that rushed her to the hospital after he found her passed out on the floor in the downstairs bathroom. It was only then that she was forced to come to terms with the fact that she was ten weeks along.</p><p>Pepper couldn’t exactly say that she was excited or even happy about the news. Honestly, it only made her feel worse about her new lot in life.</p><p>The baby that Pepper had realized had been conceived the morning before Tony’s disappearance would be born without ever knowing their father or older sister.</p><p>Pepper would not only be a widow, but a single mother and Pepper wasn’t sure she would be strong enough to do it alone, especially so soon after the death and disappearance of Tony and Morgan.</p><p>James had been the one that informed her that he would be there for her no matter what decision she made, which Pepper had been grateful for. Honestly, Pepper didn’t believe she would’ve kept the baby had it not been for the support system James had provided her, along with the fact that this baby would be the last, living link she would ever have to Tony. He would want her to keep it, for them to know who he was and how much he would’ve loved them if he’d lived long enough to see them take their very first steps.</p><p>Pepper sighs, swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat just thinking about her deceased husband and everything he would no longer be here to witness with her anymore, including the birth of his second child.</p><p>“I know…” she trails off. “It’s just… I would feel a lot better if they had something to go off of, a hint or a clue or something, something to let me know what the hell happened and why their bodies have yet to be located. They deserve a proper burial, for their bodies to be laid to rest.” Pepper shakes her head. “...I just feel like something isn’t right…”</p><p>James nods understandingly and sighs.</p><p>“Well, if you feel up to it, after your doctor’s appointment, we can drop by the station for an update on the case from Detective Bailey. She has to have something by now to ease both of our minds.”</p><p>A soft, tired smile emerges on her face in response to James’ words.</p><p>“...Have I told you how much I love and appreciate you?”</p><p>“Only about a gazillion times, but what’s one more time gonna hurt?”</p><p>Pepper laughs and James smiles cheekily, offering her wink in response.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“Would you quit tapping you’re foot like that James? You’re beginning to make <em>me</em> nervous.”</p><p>“I can’t help it. Hospitals and doctors make me anxious, you know that.”</p><p>“But I’m one that’s going to have to get my blood drawn, have that cold, lubricating jelly spread on my belly for the ultrasound. You won’t have to do a thing! Besides, I told you a million times you didn’t have to come.”</p><p>“When I told you I’d be here every step of the way, I meant it. It’s what Tony would’ve wanted.”</p><p>Pepper couldn’t help the halfhearted smile that spreads across her lips as she glances over at James, reaching a hand out to squeeze his wrist.</p><p>“…Thank you James… I know this hasn’t been easy for you, that I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with lately—”</p><p>“You’ve been trying just as much as I have, that’s all I can really expect of you at this point.”</p><p>Pepper smiles at James and before she could respond, the receptionist is calling her name, startling them both.</p><p>“That’s me,” Pepper replies, approaching the front desk with James in tow.</p><p>“Great! Dr. Bonilla is ready for you.”</p><p>Pepper frowns.</p><p>“Dr. Bonilla? What happened to Dr. Miller?”</p><p>“Oh, you haven’t heard? He was in an unfortunate car collusion a week ago while on his way to the office.”</p><p>“Oh my! Is he okay?”</p><p>“Yes, he survived, thankfully, but will be out of commission for the remainder of the year. We have Dr. Bonilla as a temporary replacement until we can find someone permanent.”</p><p>“Wow…” Pepper breathes. “That’s terrible. I hope he has a speedy recovery. He’s truly great at what he does.”</p><p>“Yes, he really is. But I think you’ll enjoy Dr. Bonilla. She’s gotten rave reviews from fellow doctors and patients alike from her previous place of employment. She’s going to pick up where Dr. Miller left off.”</p><p>“She sounds promising,” Pepper forces a strained smile. “What room will I be in?”</p><p>“42 B, Nurse Jackie will be happy to show you the way.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Pepper nods, glancing at James who places a hand on her back to help her along the way as they follow the Nurse’s lead.</p><p>“I’m going to miss Dr. Miller,” Pepper whispers to James as they walk side by side. “I was really beginning to warm up to him.”</p><p>“It’ll be fine; you just have to be as open-minded with this new doctor as you were with Dr. Miller. Give it a chance.”</p><p>“I’ll try…” Pepper sighs.</p><p>“Here we are,” Nurse Jackie says with a polite smile on her face as she leads them into a nice sized room painted light green with a bed centered in the middle, a chair situated beside it and a couch pushed against the wall on the other side of the room. “…Make yourselves at home.”</p><p>James helps Pepper onto the cot while Nurse Jackie closes the door behind her and heads for the sink to wash her hands and slip on a pair of elastic gloves thereafter, turning to glance at them with a small smile on her face.</p><p>“…Is this your first child together?” The young woman, who appears to be in her mid-twenties asks, startling the two apart.</p><p>“Together? Oh, no, we’re not a couple, just close friends.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s my mistake, the way you two acted with one another, I just assumed—”</p><p>“It’s fine, an honest mistake, no hard feelings.” James interjects with a strained smile.</p><p>“Okay. Mrs. Stark, I will have to take your blood, just to make you are healthy and everything is operating as it should.”</p><p>Pepper tries not to wince as she nods, watching as the nurse rolls the tray closer to her bed, preparing the small tubes she would need to collect her blood.</p><p>There was a time Pepper <em>loved</em> being referred to as “Mrs. Stark,” loved being reminded that she was the wife of Tony Stark, that she was his… but now, it only brought about unpleasant, bitter feelings and served as a reminder of the life she did not have anymore, of the husband she did not have anymore.</p><p>James touches her shoulder and she glances up at him, already feeling a sense of peace overcome her as his coffee colored eyes bore into the very depths of her core with a genuine kindness and reassurance she didn’t realize she needed in that moment.</p><p>“Alright, you may feel a bit of a pinch, but it should go away within a matter of seconds. If it doesn’t, don’t hesitate to let me know and I’ll stop if you feel any discomfort.”</p><p>“Okay,” Pepper nods. “I’m ready.”</p><p>The process went faster than Pepper expected it to and before she knew it, Nurse Jackie was done and she and James were left to await Dr. Bonilla’s arrival.</p><p>James and she had been in the middle of hilarious reminiscing of the time Tony nearly fainted at a doctor’s appointment when she had been pregnant with Morgan and the doctor had made a mistake in referring to their baby as “twins” because of the way Morgan had been positioned on the ultrasound.</p><p>It was a pleasant memory that Pepper found laughter and joy in, but the delight she felt was washed away within seconds when a woman wearing a white coat entered the room, silencing them both.</p><p>Pepper didn’t know what it was, but this woman’s very presence brought about a sense of anxiousness and unease that she hadn’t felt since that day Tony and Morgan hadn’t come back home. It was a feeling she’d recognized all too well and one she despised more than anything.</p><p>“Hello! I’m Dr. Bonilla, call me Alejandra if you want, either one is fine.” The woman smiles as she enters the room, closing the door behind her with a clipboard in her hand. “And you must be… Pepper Potts-Stark! Pleasure to meet you!”</p><p>Pepper strains a smile at the woman as she reaches her hand out to the extended hand and shakes it.</p><p>“Same to you,” she says through gritted teeth.</p><p>“And you are…?”</p><p>“James. James Rhodes. Friend of Pepper’s.”</p><p>“Awesome to meet you James! Alright, let’s get started, shall we?” Dr. Bonilla pulls up a stool and sits, crossing her legs and skimming through the pages attached to her clipboard. “Okay, so you are here for an ultrasound, yes?”</p><p>“Correct.”</p><p>“Alright, you’re blood tests came back positive. You’re as healthy as a horse, which is always good. Now, we must make sure you and the little one are on the same page in that regard.”</p><p>Pepper, within a matter of minutes, had already determined that she did not like this woman and she couldn’t understand why.</p><p>Tony had always praised her for being such a good judge of character and often had her scope out a few of his clients he was unsure about and almost every single one she examined with sharp, critical eyes had turned out to be sleazy and morally bankrupt and overall bad for business.</p><p>Pepper could recall that time she helped prevent Tony from getting into a shady business deal with a man that planned to suck him dry and swindle him out of millions.</p><p>Pepper prided herself on being able to read people exceptionally well, but <em>this </em>was different, <em>this</em> was something she’d never experienced before, a feeling that was far more unsettling than the hundreds of unseemly businessmen she’d encountered daily when she worked at Stark Industries before she inevitably retired from her position after she and Tony wed, though she still kept an eye on much of the interworking’s of Stark Industries.</p><p>No, <em>this</em> feeling was quite unnerving and unique, even if she couldn’t exactly explain why, because the woman appeared friendly enough and rather harmless, petite and attractive, long curly black hair pulled into a neat pony tail, large green eyes that peered down at her with genuine care and concern with a striking caramel complexion free of blemishes. She’d even caught James checking her out when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.</p><p>“Alright Mrs. Stark, this is going to feel cold and uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to the feeling after a while. I don’t want you to be in any discomfort, so please, don’t hesitate to let me know if something doesn’t feel right. Okay?”</p><p>Pepper nods and the woman smiles brightly as she begins to apply the cool substance to her naked, swollen belly, causing Pepper to wince in response.</p><p>“Okay?” Dr. Bonilla asks with raised brows.</p><p>“I’m okay. I just… will never get used to that cold feeling.”</p><p>“Yeah, it definitely sucks, but at least you will be able to see how your little one is doing!”</p><p>Pepper’s eyes drift to the monitor and her breath hitches when the sound of a heartbeat begins to echo throughout the room. She reaches for James’ hand and laces it with her own.</p><p>“Oh, little one’s got a powerful, healthy heartbeat! That’s a good sign!”</p><p>Pepper chews on her bottom lip as she squeezes James’ hand before an image pops up across the screen as Dr. Bonilla moves the transducer across her belly, gasping in pleasant surprise.</p><p>“Oh, there they are, trying to hide. Don’t be shy! Let your mama get a good look at you!” Dr. Bonilla laughs, turning to face Pepper with a wide smile on her face. “Would you like to know the sex of your baby? Or would you like it to remain a surprise?”</p><p>Pepper turns to look at James who shrugs nonchalantly.</p><p>“It’s up to you.”</p><p>Pepper chews on her bottom lip again contemplatively before sighing.</p><p>“I think I will let it be a surprise, just to give me something to be pleasantly surprised about later on.”</p><p>“Excellent!” Dr. Bonilla pipes up. “Alright, everything appears to be kosher, the baby is in good health as well as its mother. The only critique I have is that, considering your age, I would regard your pregnancy to be high-risk, so I would advise you not to do anything strenuous or anything that may cause distress to you or the baby. You are in good health, so whatever you’re doing to maintain that, keep doing it because it’s working.”</p><p>Pepper nods as Dr. Bonilla cleans the wet substance from her belly with a paper towel.</p><p>“Now, the last thing I need to do before I release you is perform an Amniocentesis test, just to check and make sure you’re baby doesn’t possess any chromosomal abnormalities or fetal infections. It shouldn’t take too long.”</p><p>“Um, is that necessary? I didn’t have to do that in my last pregnancy.”</p><p>“You were thirty then, which is below the age of what would be considered a high-risk pregnancy. You’re forty-two now, which is within the range of more at-risk pregnancies that are more vulnerable to miscarriages, chromosomal abnormalities, infections, birth defects, etcetera. Believe me Mrs. Stark, all of this is in the best interest of your baby. It’s not the most comfortable test, but at least it will ensure the health of your child, which is always a good thing, even if the process isn’t always fun.”</p><p>Pepper struggles not to roll her eyes as Dr. Bonilla preps for the test. Maybe Pepper was being sensitive, but she couldn’t help but sense a certain level of condescension in her tone of voice that irked Pepper. She glances up at James who gives her a reassuring smile in response, which, she can admit, eases a bit of the tension she felt within.</p><p>“You’ll be fine,” he whispers in her ear, while giving her hand a squeeze of reassurance.</p><p>Pepper, needless to say, was happy when that needle (that seemed to plunge deep into her swollen belly) was finally out of her. The needle was long and thick and it hurt like <em>hell</em>. But it was over now and Pepper was glad she would never have to endure something like <em>that</em> again.</p><p>“You should get the results within three days. You won’t have to worry about coming in, you can if you want, but the results can be explained over the phone. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”</p><p>“A phone call will be nice.”</p><p>“Awesome!” Dr. Bonilla grins, scribbling something down on her notepad. “How are you doing on your prenatal vitamins? It’s about time for a refill, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Yes, how’d you know?”</p><p>“I’ve inferred it from Dr. Miller’s files on you. You’re due for a new prescription every three months.”</p><p>Dr. Bonilla sets her clipboard down and moves across the room, over to the cabinets, sifting through them for a minute before she retrieves a white prescription medication bottle.</p><p>“Alright, here we are,” Dr. Bonilla grins, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she makes her way back over to them and hands Pepper the prenatal vitamins. “Make sure you take them twice a day; once before breakfast and another before dinner. This bottle should last you throughout the duration of your pregnancy, so you won’t have to worry about taking a trip to the pharmacy every few months.”</p><p>Pepper can admit that she found it a bit odd that Dr. Bonilla didn’t simply write a prescription for it like Dr. Miller had always done, but she brushes it off, figuring that she was simply being overly paranoid. Besides, it would be nice not having to go to the pharmacy every few months.</p><p>Pepper could’ve had her own personal doctor like she had with Morgan, but she’d ended up liking Dr. Miller so much that she decided to stick with him throughout the duration of her pregnancy because he was just that good.</p><p>Pepper had been rethinking her decision ever since he’d been unexpectedly replaced, but she decides to go against the uneasiness she felt inside and give Dr. Bonilla a chance. Perhaps she would grow fond of her like she had Dr. Miller.</p><p>“I think that’s about it, unless you have any additional questions?”</p><p>Pepper glances at James and shakes her head.</p><p>“No. Thank you Dr. Bonilla.”</p><p>“No problem! I suppose I will be seeing you next month?”</p><p>“Of course,” Pepper replies as James helps her out of the hospital cot.</p><p>“You can make your next appointment with the front desk receptionist. Have a wonderful remainder of the day, Mrs. Stark!” Dr. Bonilla grins, offering up a small wave and a wink for James before she exists the room.</p><p>“See? I told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”</p><p>“That’s easy for you to say, you were too busy staring at her chest and legs to determine whether she was a good doctor or not.”</p><p>“That’s a goddamn lie and you know it.”</p><p>“You weren’t being as discreet as you think you were.” Pepper smirks.</p><p>“Whatever, let’s just go. I don’t want to be here longer than necessary.” James visibly shivers as he leads her out the door, evoking a soft laugh from Pepper in return.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“I just <em>knew</em> sending my little sobrina; my favorite little niece to medical school to be an obstetrician would come in handy for me one of these days.”</p><p>“Tío, I’m your <em>only</em> niece.”</p><p>“You know what I mean Alejandra,” Angel replies with a pointed look as he blows out the smoke coming from the cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. “Anyways, I’m assuming everything went according to plan?”</p><p>“Of course, no one suspected a thing. Although I’m not sure I’m too comfortable with the risk of losing my medical license for this.”</p><p>“Don’t act like this is your first go-round playing around with the law or engaging in activities that could result in the revoking of your medical license. Besides, you owe me this sweetheart. Don’t forget whose coin it was that afforded you the privilege of attending that prestigious American medical school you loved bragging on for nearly a decade.”</p><p>“How could I forget? You never let me.” Alejandra grumbles with a roll of her eyes as she folds her arms against her chest. “Anyways, I did as you ordered. I gave her the prenatal vitamins you wanted.”</p><p>“Oh, they weren’t prenatal vitamins mija,” Angel smirks. “The prenatal vitamins were dumped and replaced with Accutane.”</p><p>“Accutane?” Alejandra’s eyes widen with realization. “Isn’t that a Swiss pharmaceutical prescription used to treat cancers of the brain and pancreas?”</p><p>“Correct,” Angel grins.</p><p>“The side effects to that drug are no joke tío! Many people have suffered ailments such as anemia, convulsions, Crohn’s disease and jaundice as a result of prolonged usage and it’s specifically disallowed for pregnant women because of the extreme severe birth defects it can cause to a developing baby’s health like deformities of the heart, face and brain—”</p><p>“Tragic isn’t it?”</p><p>“Wow… you really want this woman to suffer don’t you?”</p><p>“It’s not about her Alejandra; it’s about that insufferable bastard Tony Stark and destroying his family the way he destroyed mine. He’s the reason my little girl is dead! My beautiful Isabella! If he would’ve kept his fucking dick in his pants, I would still have my little princess here. He used her up and sucked her dry and threw her away like a cum rag when he was done, knocking her up and never looking back. Stark isn’t shit and I’m going to make sure I hit ‘em where it fuckin’ hurts, because he deserves that and more. It’s like I told Miles; Stark’s family — his wife, his daughter and now his little bastard on the way are simply collateral damage in all of this.”</p><p>“Um... speaking of Miles, where is he?”</p><p>“I’m glad you asked,” Angel grins, clicking a button on his phone and immediately the three monitors come to life and display a disturbing scene before them. Alejandra’s mouth drops open while Angel grins with dark excitement in his forest green eyes. “Looks like he’s been working the daughter over all night, by the time he’s done with her, she’ll be nothing but blood and bones.”</p><p>“What happened to her father?”</p><p>“Stark? Oh, after being kicked around a bit, he was made to watch his daughter being raped and sodomized simultaneously before he became a bit too rowdy so Logan held him down while Elijah had to use chloroform on him just to keep him knocked out for a while, but when he finally comes to and sees the condition his daughter is in, he’ll wish he’d stayed asleep in la la land.” Angel chuckles.</p><p>Alejandra just watches on, at the image displayed across the screens of her cousin covered by a face mask, pinning the weeping young girl onto the concrete wall as he assaults her while her father lies unconscious, not even a few feet away, and her cousin appears not even the least bit deterred by the young girl’s cries of agony.</p><p>“I wasn’t quite sure what Stark was so worked up about anyway. Miles is fucking her no differently than how he himself fucks his own daughter. The slut likes it rough and Miles has been giving her exactly that. Stark should be happy his boy knows how to give it his half-sister with the same energy and excitement that he does.” Angel shrugs nonchalantly as he discards his cigar in the nearby ashtray. “Perhaps he’s jealous.”</p><p>“Wow… you really meant it when you said you wanted this man to suffer…” Alejandra breathes, staring at the man’s unconscious form lying face down with large dark purple contusions littering his naked body.</p><p>“You bet Mija, you bet.” Angel grins, turning to face her. “I want you to monitor that wife of his for a while, keep an eye on her and make sure she’s taking those ‘vitamins.’ I know you have access to her files and her past medical history, if she gets out of line; don’t hesitate to use that information to your advantage.”</p><p>Alejandra nods, not at all surprised but forever perturbed by her uncle’s callousness as her eyes never leave the display screens, where Miles was now slapping the sobbing girl around a bit, pushing her to the floor and backhanding her.</p><p>“And you won’t have to worry about the previous doctor returning any time soon.” Angel smirks.</p><p>“What’d you do to him tío? That man was innocent!”</p><p>“Not when he was unknowingly standing in the way of executing my plans mija. Besides, he’s not dead so don’t worry your pretty little head about that man, he’s been injured with enough severity that will keep him away long enough for him to not be any type of issue going forward.” Her uncle’s forest green eyes lock with hers and she tries not to shiver under his critical gaze. “…Can you handle this Alejandra?”</p><p>“Of course,” she answers with little hesitation in her tone of voice despite the apprehension she may have felt within.</p><p>Alejandra knew if she hesitated, even just a little bit, her uncle would’ve gotten someone else to do the job and she would pay for her inability to remain loyal to her uncle — The Don — and he would undoubtedly make her suffer for it. Not only could her uncle hold a grudge like no other, the one thing he hated more than anything was those he deemed disloyal. She’s seen family members and friends alike become a target of her uncle’s vicious rage within an instant when they refused to play his games.</p><p>Uncle Angel held no issue putting hits out on family members and friends when he’s felt betrayed in some way. He was ruthless, hardened by the lifestyle he lived and all that came with maintaining it for as long as he had.</p><p>Alejandra had often felt immense empathy watching her younger cousin Miles endure so much hell at the hands of her uncle growing up. The things her uncle put her cousin through just to prove his undying loyalty to him still made her stomach churn to this day. If her uncle could do that to his only grandchild, she didn’t think he’d hesitate to whip her back into shape if she ever got out of line.</p><p>“That’s what I thought. It’s one of the many traits I love about you Alejandra. You never back down from a challenge; it’s why I chose you for this. I knew you would be good for it and I know you won’t let your tío down, no?”</p><p>“Never,” Alejandra grins, turning her eyes back to the three monitors before them as the father and daughter duo lie battered and unconscious. “…You’ll always have my loyalty Uncle Angel. Always…”</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. 11. The Wreck of the Forgotten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“I’m so tired of being here<br/>Suppressed by all my childish fears<br/>And if you have to leave<br/>I wish that you would just leave<br/>‘Cause your presence still lingers here<br/>And it won’t leave me alone<br/>Now I’m bound by the life you left behind<br/>Your face it haunts<br/>My once pleasant dreams<br/>Your voice it chased away<br/>All the sanity in me”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tony’s eyes roll to the back of his head before he has the chance to open them. A peculiar smell fills his nostrils; a scent that resembled hard metal, metallic and rust.</p><p>When he tries to move, a sharp, agonizing pain ripples through him and he groans, despite the raw sensation he feels in his throat.</p><p>The ache in his body hits him almost immediately, from his head to his toes, even his eyelids as they feel like weights when he attempts to open them again.</p><p>Red is the first thing he sees, the glow of the bulb lights that hang above him gleam in a way that he finds nauseating, but not as nauseating as the sight that awaits him once his eyes aimlessly wonder the small room, pausing at the unconscious form lying across from him and his heart sinks at the sight.</p><p>It was the sight of his little girl bloodied and battered, beaten and unconscious, and he has the urge to immediately go to her, to comfort her, but he can’t move. He tries, but the pain is unbearable. It seems as if just being conscious was draining what little energy he had left.</p><p>But, despite the excruciating pain, he toils on, slowly dragging his limp body across the cool concrete and over to his daughter, letting out shrieks of pain in the process.</p><p>“Morgan…” he whispers out hoarsely, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat the moment he speaks. “Morgan, wake up.”</p><p>A series of harsh coughing ensues, which causes a searing pain to shoot through his body. Morgan remained unresponsive, even when he reaches a shaky hand out to her arm to weakly shake her awake and back to consciousness, but it’s of no use, Morgan wasn’t coming to any time soon, no matter how much he willed her to.</p><p>Scratches and dark purple contusions littered her naked skin, across her torso and thighs, where he could just barely make out the dried blood between her legs. Her face was covered in scratches along with a large bruise on her right cheek, near her jaw.</p><p>Tears sprang to his eyes and all he wanted to do in that moment was to hug his daughter, but he couldn’t even do that, just like he couldn’t protect her from what had happened to her, couldn’t even protect himself from it let alone his own daughter.</p><p>Tony felt absolutely powerless, hopeless, weak and pathetic. No matter how much shit went wrong in his life thus far, <em>nothing</em> could compare to <em>this</em> and the extreme self-hatred he felt as a result.</p><p>But there had always been a part of Tony that was self-loathing, always questioning his self-worth, second guessing himself and whether or not he was truly deserving of all of his accolades he’s acquired thus far in his life. A major case of imposter syndrome and it was something he struggled with for most of his life.</p><p>But <em>this </em>type of self-loathing was quite different than before; jarring it was, insidious and diabolical.</p><p>The memories were flooding back into his mind at rapid speed, of Morgan being held down against her will — crying, screaming, fighting and being knocked into complete silence by a large, thick metal pipe. She was eerily quiet after that and it was at that point when she’d truly given up, when she’d stopped fighting back.</p><p>Tony watched in horror as their assailants had their way with her, one by one, sometimes two at a time, filling every hole Morgan had and he watched with a heavy heart as his daughter lied there as those men bent and contorted her body to their depraved liking.</p><p>His blood felt hot pumping through his veins as Tony watched one assailant sodomize his daughter with a long metal pipe between her legs (the same one that was used to knock her unconscious) while another forcefully shoved his penis down her throat.</p><p>The look in his daughter’s eyes frightened Tony more than anything; there was emptiness in her eyes, a haunting vacancy there that made bile rush up through his esophagus. Morgan looked dead inside and like a shadow of her former self, being used up, slapped and thrown around like a disposable rag doll.</p><p>Tony doesn’t remember much after he vomited, only that the sounds of them defiling his daughter would be one he could never forget, no matter how hard he tried.</p><p>Tears dripped from his lashes, blurring his vision as he bawled his eyes out like a baby. Morgan was unconscious so she would never witness him like this, even if it didn’t matter anymore, because he wasn’t there to protect her like he should’ve been, he was a weak and pathetic old man that was not even strong enough to help himself, much less his own daughter from enduring the worse of the worst.</p><p>Tony isn’t quite sure whether he fell asleep or passed out again, but either way, he just was glad to be temporarily put out of his own misery by way of unconsciousness where nothing really mattered.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Tony awakens, groggy and with double vision, to a silhouette looming over him as he comes to, peering down at him in a malevolent manner that causes unpleasant shivers to rush through him before he could even make out who the person was.</p><p>He figures he hasn’t been passed out for too long, considering his levels of pain had dissipated zero to none. He was still in immense pain and Morgan was still unconscious.</p><p>“…You’re even more pathetic up close and in person than you are in pictures.”</p><p>Tony blinks through his haziness; at least enough to make out whom was standing over him, speaking to him with such a malicious, spine-chilling tone of voice.</p><p>Finally, through the pain and soreness, he sees a man. A man that appeared to be no older than twenty-five, thirty at most, with wavy jet black hair neatly combed back, honey brown complexion and dark green eyes that gazed at him with such disdain it would have been intimidating and a bit frightening had it not been for the tremendous pain and discomfort he was in.</p><p>The young man, just off first glance, looks familiar. Tony had felt like he’d seen that face before, but could not, for the life of him, decipher when or where exactly it was.</p><p>“Who the fuck are you?” Tony manages to get out through a raspy, hoarse tone of voice.</p><p>“I’m your reckoning, Tony Stark. Didn’t ya know?” The young man laughs. “I thought it’s been made quite obvious by now.”</p><p>Tony tries to glare at the unknown man, but the searing headache that was beginning to form prevents him from fully being able to do so. Instead, he tries, with all his might, to disengage his emotions from this moment and to think as logically and as objectively as he could, figure out why this was happening, gain some useful information, and attempt to put together a plan to get the hell out of here.</p><p>“Why’re doing this? W-Why is this happening?”</p><p>“All the shitty things you have done throughout your life and you’re really asking that question? Please don’t tell me you’re that dense.”</p><p>Tony swallows thickly.</p><p>“Is it money that you want? I have lots of it and you can have it all. I don’t care. Just let us go.”</p><p>“Wow... you really <em>are</em> a shallow bastard with an unhealthy obsession with money. I guess that’s partially how you became the rich and successful businessman you are today.” The unknown man smirks, taking a couple steps back to lean against the wall. “But to answer your superficial question: no, this is not about money. This is… quite personal.”</p><p>“Personal? I... I don’t even know you.”</p><p>“And whose fault is that?” The young man snaps. “God, it’s like you can’t seem to think beyond that nose of yours, can you? That particular flaw of yours that’s ruined so many lives will be the death of you.”</p><p>Tony tries to keep his attitude and temper in check, because this sadistic prick had the nerve to make himself out to be the actual victim when he was anything but.</p><p>He exhales through his nostrils, briefly closing his eyes in attempt to get his breathing under control.</p><p>“Help me understand your anger. You look familiar at best but as far as I know, I’ve never met you in my entire life. What have I done to you to deserve this?”</p><p>“As if you don’t already know,” The man scoffs. “And you would’ve known me a lot sooner had you not gone your entire life pretending as if I didn’t exist.”</p><p>The young man pushes himself off the wall and saunters over to him, looming over Tony’s battered frame yet again with a dark glint in his haunting green eyes as he scowls down at him.</p><p>“...You know, I would’ve somewhat respected you if you would’ve been upfront about your shit, told me to my face how things were going to be — man to man — and moved on with your life — but no, you couldn’t do that because perhaps that would’ve aligned much too closely with any sense of morality and compassion. No, <em>everyone</em> knows Tony Stark loves to live life on the wild side, do whatever the fuck he wants no matter who he screws over in the process.” The man angrily scoffs. “A part of you probably liked it anyway, knowing you could fuck over whomever you wanted and no one would be the wiser, that none of your shit would ever catch up to you, until now that is. It’s too bad your precious family has to suffer for the shit you caused. Now little perfect princess has to pay for her father’s sins like I had to all of my life.”</p><p>Tony could’ve sworn his blood ran cold, ice cold, as his mind scrambles to register what was said to him, word for word.</p><p>The man watches him closely and Tony blinks up at him as his eyes began to sting with tears gathering at the corner of his eyes as realization hits him like a ton of bricks, his heart pounds against his chest so hard he swears it will burst out of his chest. He thinks he knows why the man’s face looked so eerily familiar, why those striking green eyes that contrasted against his equally striking caramel complexion brought back a flood of memories Tony had actively buried and pushed to the back of his mind, so deep and so far back, he’d blacked the memories out completely.</p><p>Tony found himself unnerved by the way they came inundating back, one by one, and just by the look on the man’s face, that went from a scowl to haughty, the man knew that Tony was slowly piecing it together.</p><p>“…Isabella Bonilla, you remember her don’t you? Or was she just another notch on your belt?”</p><p>Immediately, the image of a young girl with a cherubic face, radiant brown skin with the brightest green eyes Tony had ever seen; long, curly black hair that flowed down her back comes to mind.</p><p>Isabella Bonilla, Belle is what he used to call her for short. The daughter of the infamous Puerto Rican drug dealing kingpin he’d unintentionally fallen for.</p><p>Oh yes, he’d remember Isabella quite well. She was one of those girls one can never truly forget no matter how hard they tried, which is why Tony had spent years religiously trying to bury the memory of her, of what they had together and what they could’ve been if under different circumstances to the back of his head.</p><p>“…Belle,” he chocks out. “Belle, I remember Belle.”</p><p>“Do you also remember all those letters she wrote to you that went unanswered?”</p><p>Tony’s brows furrow and it hurts to even do that.</p><p>“L-Letters? What letters?”</p><p>“You know your oblivious act is really beginning to tick me off.” The young man utters through gritted teeth. “After you left her high and dry, she wrote to you, but you never responded, just like you never responded to me when I tried to reach out.”</p><p>“R-Reach out?” Tony asks, in complete and utter bewilderment. “And I... I didn’t leave Belle willingly, I left because of her father, Angel Bonilla, he threatened to have me beheaded if I didn’t leave Puerto Rico immediately and leave Isabella alone for good and to never look back or else he’d… he’d… oh my God. It’s <em>him</em>.”</p><p>Tony couldn’t believe he didn’t think of that wretched man sooner than this. Angel Bonilla had it out for him the moment he found out he was involved with Isabella behind his back. To this day, Tony never knew how exactly her father had found out. He and Isabella had been extremely careful, but that man most likely had eyes everywhere and Tony was foolish to think a man like Angel wouldn’t find out one of his most high profile clients was intimately involved with his daughter. It would have only been a matter of when and not necessarily if.</p><p>Besides, Tony had been dabbling and experimenting with all types of drugs back then, he probably wasn’t as sharp as he thought he was or could have been.</p><p>“You lie like its second nature to you. I have to give credit where it’s due, you’re good.”</p><p>“I… I’m not lying.” Tony breathes out, feeling an unpleasant tingle in his chest and a throbbing on the side of his head. "If Angel put you up to this, I assure you he’s filled your head up with lies. I never wanted to leave Isabella, but I <em>had</em> to. Belle told me of the things… of things he would do to her. I knew if he was capable of hurting his own daughter in the way Belle always confided in me about, he was capable of absolutely anything.”</p><p>“Even if what you say is true — which I doubt — what about the letters? I know your ass got them. You could’ve at least responded, to let her know that you knew, even if you had no plans of sticking around.”</p><p>“What letters?” Tony shrieks, at his wit’s end. “I never received <em>anything</em> from her — ever! After I left, the contact between us was lost forever. Angel made sure of that. He monitored <em>everything</em> she did; down to the color underwear she wore every day. He was damn obsessed with her!”</p><p>“Bullshit,” the man retorts, dismissively. “Don’t try and deflect from your own shit and villainize him because he was man enough to do what you refused to do.”</p><p>“And what is that exactly?” Tony counters, admittedly losing his cool, annoyed by the attitude this fucker was giving him.</p><p>The man begins to pace the room, in a manner that reminded Tony of himself whenever he got extremely nervous or angry about something or someone that was out of his control. He doesn’t know why he’d made that connection but he did and it was admittedly unsettling.</p><p>“…I don’t believe you. I don’t believe <em>anything</em> that you say or claim to be the truth. A pathological liar is what you are that refuses to own up to your mistakes and instead would rather switch the narrative around to appear in a more favorable light.” He approaches Tony again with an angry scowl on his face that appeared rather lethal. “My mother suffered because of you, I suffered because of you, because you weren’t there to fucking protect me and you weren’t there to save my mother when she died because of your selfishness!”</p><p>Tony is left utterly befuddled by the young man’s words.</p><p>“W-What? What’d you s-say?” He sputters.</p><p>The man, now shaking with unhinged anger and rage, ran a tanned hand through his inky black hair and tugged on it rather harshly.</p><p>“All those fucking letters she wrote you that were left purposely unanswered were filled with updates of her condition, of her pregnancy, but I’m pretty sure you knew that already.”</p><p>“…Belle… she… she was pregnant?” Tony gulps.</p><p>“Yes. Yes she was, and it was yours. And instead of telling her you weren’t interested in raising a bastard child, which would’ve been a lot less painful than never responding at all, you simply carried on with your life like she never existed.”</p><p>“…You… you said Isabella is your mother?”</p><p>“…”</p><p>Tony’s eyes widen with realization as he stares at the young man, rendered utterly speechless, the unshed tears that gathered at the corner of his eyes splashing down onto his cheeks, inevitably stinging the fresh cuts that appeared near the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones.</p><p>Tony didn’t want to believe he was staring his estranged son in the eyes, but even he could not deny the possibility.</p><p>Tony was a reckless mess back then, reckless and in love, and he wasn’t always careful like he should’ve been. He and Isabella truly were, for a lack of a better word, like animals during mating season. They made love like every encounter would be their last — anywhere and everywhere they could find and Tony was sure they didn’t always use a condom every single time.</p><p>The man looming above him was a spitting image of Isabella, he had her everything; her radiant brown skin, signature black hair — even her adorable dimples Tony had fell in love with. It was one of his favorite features of Isabella’s that he never got tired of reminding her of.</p><p>Tony knew for a fact that he never received any letters from Isabella, he would’ve remembered. If he’d known that she was pregnant, he would have come back. Tony thought about coming back to Isabella often, but he feared her father and feared the things he would do if he ever did step foot back in Puerto Rico. And although Tony had always surrounded himself with the best private security detail money could afford, he would undoubtedly be in Angel’s territory, his playground, therefore at the mercy of him and that never sat well with Tony, thus his reasoning for keeping his distance for many years thereafter.</p><p>Tony, even at the age of twenty-six, had not feared much, but there was something about Angel Bonilla that always gave him the heebie-jeebies. The man gave off psychopathic vibes even in Tony’s youthful, addled mind. But his love for what Angel supplied him at the time trumped whatever fear he had of the man as well as his love for Isabella, despite the odds stacked against him for involving himself with the seventeen-year old daughter of a kingpin that had, unbeknownst to him at the time, resulted in the birth of an estranged child he had not the slightest clue about, no physical relations to, no contact with, no existing knowledge of his existence, until now that is...</p><p>“Are you... you’re…” Tony sputters, unable to articulate any of the words he wanted to say, his mind whirling with endless thoughts this newfound information had brought about.</p><p>Tony was truly at a loss for words and when the unnamed man that loomed over him grins, it is only then that his smile reminds Tony of his own father, Howard Stark; that same condescending smile he used to utterly despise. It was there, in that brief moment, the image of his father — the worst aspects of him at least — staring him in the face and it unnerved Tony, almost as much as finding out he’d had an estranged son out there, now leering at him with such disdain and burning hatred in those emerald eyes that reminded him so much of Isabella’s.</p><p>The contrast was as eerie for him as it was unsettling and it ignited old thoughts and feelings he wholeheartedly believed he’d left behind years ago, but apparently not.</p><p>The life Tony thought he’d left behind had come back full force in a way he would’ve never predicted.</p><p>Now, he was suffering because of his own actions (or lack thereof) and Morgan was paying for his sins, sins she didn’t even commit, sins she didn’t deserve to pay for, especially not on his behalf.</p><p>Tony was beginning to feel nauseous; his vision blurring as the room felt like it was suddenly flipped upside down. He grunted and rolled onto his side and the young man, no longer unknown, laughs, maliciously.</p><p>“I’ll never understand what she ever saw in you,” he spat, venomously. “You’re such a pathetic excuse for a human being, a complete and utter waste of space — a fucking trash bin.”</p><p>“I didn’t know,” Tony wheezes out, his breathing becoming heavy and ragged as tears fell from his eyes, splashing down onto his cheek and the concrete floor beneath him. “I swear I didn’t know—”</p><p>Before Tony could even finish his sentence, a sharp pain shoots up through his spine and the back of his head, where he’d realized that he’d been kicked, hard enough to stir up the uncontrollable nausea churning in his stomach.</p><p>“You fucking liar!” The man growls at him viciously.</p><p>“I… I’m not—”</p><p>Another hard boot to his gut and Tony vomits, the liquid matter splattering across the concrete flooring, prompting the young man to sidestep the spraying vomit.</p><p>Tony barely has time to recover before he’s being snatched up from the ground by his shoulders and slammed against the concrete wall, the back of his head banging against the solid surface, severe enough to cause double vision.</p><p>“Everything my grandfather said about you was true, you’re every bit of a disgusting prick I always thought you were who preyed on my mother when she was only seventeen and left her to die while she gave birth to a child you didn’t give a solitary fuck about. You preyed on her the same way you’ve preyed on your own daughter, with the same primitive instincts that never truly went away, but laid dormant for all these years and it finally came barreling out again the second you were put in less than favorable circumstances. You just couldn’t help yourself. You were like an unhinged animal — but worse!”</p><p>Tony’s bruised and battered body fell limp in the young man’s painful grasp, saliva and bits of vomit clung to his beard as he struggled for oxygen, blocked by the arm pressed against his throat.</p><p>“Although, I can’t blame you too much, baby sister has a pretty wet pussy — tight and warm it is that makes for good fucking, y’know? I see why you couldn’t resist.”</p><p>With the little strength he’d managed to conjure up in that moment, Tony hurls a loogie at the other man, right smack dab in the middle of his face. It was the only way he could express his displeasure in that moment since he was too weak to do anything else. It seemed his actions conveyed his emotions better than he could’ve ever articulated in that moment, judging by the loud, angry shriek that reverberates from the man — his estranged son — who had his body pinned against the cool concrete wall, now in a choke hold.</p><p>Tony’s saliva was a combination of blood and clumps of vomit as it slid down the man’s cheek. The look in his eyes was murderous, full of unadulterated hatred before he moves to strike him like Tony knew he would; the force behind the blow to his jaw is enough to render him unconscious.</p><p>“Piece of shit,” Miles spat venomously at the older man as his body hits the pavement with a disturbing thump. “It was nice speaking to you for first time face to face daddy-o, although I wish it were under better circumstances. Fuck you.” Miles delivers a singular kick to the unconscious body before he leaves the pathetic sight before him that was his biological father and half-sister, naked and knocked out.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Tony wasn’t sure how long he was knocked out for, how long he was unconscious, but he does recall, with blurred vision, the sight of his daughter awake and conscious, doubled over and vomiting her guts out in the toilet.</p><p>The sound of her upchucking causes heavy, unpleasant aches to settle in the pit of his belly.</p><p>He wants to help her, comfort her, protect her, but he finds that he is unable to, because he’s too weak, too damaged and too broken to do anything else other than wallow in his own self-pity…</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>The next time Tony awakens, Morgan is asleep or passed out again; it was hard to tell these days. As long as she was breathing, that was all that mattered to him in the end anyway.</p><p>Morgan lies beside him, curled up next to him and he doesn’t know how long he lies there for, watching her sleep, studying the bruises that marked her naked skin, various disturbing shades of purple and blue.</p><p>There’s dried blood between her thighs and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get the images of her being brutally gang raped out of his head, of her being forced to the ground while those men desecrated her body and he did nothing to stop it. He did absolutely nothing. All he did was watch while his little girl was brutalized, assaulted and sodomized repeatedly into submission.</p><p>Tony hates to admit it, but he believes he may have witnessed large chunks of his daughter wither away and perish yet again, right before his eyes, never to be seen or found again, gone forever.</p><p>He thinks that her spirit had finally been broken and that a part of his daughter, deep within, had died yet again on that concrete floor as those animals had their way with her as she lied there motionless and a shell of her former self.</p><p>Tony doesn’t think he’s ever experienced such a juxtaposition of emotions as he did in those achingly slow moments of the life Morgan thought she knew being snatched from her in the most horrific and violent way possible.</p><p>Tony began to weep, like the pathetic and broken down man that he is, his body nearly shook from his cries, of frustration, anger and despair of the situation, of their circumstances and his inability to protect and safeguard his daughter from the wrath of it all and the consequences of his actions (or lack thereof).</p><p>All of this had stemmed from his past, his old life as a spoiled rich coked up brat, living life in the fast lane, not giving a damn who he might’ve destroyed in the process of his reckless escapades in his youth.</p><p>A large part of Tony didn’t want to believe that man that had him in a choke hold — who uttered the most gut-wrenching words to him, with those electric green eyes — had belonged to him, was of any relation to him in any way, shape or form, or a product of his union with the daughter of the wealthy, prolific drug lord known among the famous, rich and notable elites of high society.</p><p>Tony didn’t want to believe someone so evil could be spawned from him. The look in those dark emerald eyes that resembled Isabella so much it was frightening, possessed so much anger, so much hatred, so much evil and it was all for him, so much of it was for him, it was unsettling.</p><p>Maybe all of it was a lie, a ruse used to fuck with him, to get to him on a psychological level (as if they hadn’t already). But, then again, all of it made too much sense to be some type of ruse. The hatred in that man’s eyes, the tone of his voice and the power behind his hits felt way too personal and too familiar for it to have all been a lie. It was either that or he was one helluva actor. Tony was inclined to believe the former to be true, no matter how much he didn’t want it to be.</p><p>And as a result of coming to that conclusion, Tony had begun to mentally unravel, the little bit of sanity he had left was beginning to slip away into the darkest depths of the abyss.</p><p>Tony was here for a <em>specific</em> reason, he understood now, that the circumstances in which he found himself in were purely out of mortal vengeance, as some sort of mentally deranged form of retribution for his lack of involvement in the upbringing of his long lost son that he’d had not even the slightest clue existed until now, until this very moment.</p><p>And how <em>couldn’t</em> he have known that he’d had a child out there somewhere? How could he have gone all these years not knowing? Not having the slightest clue? It didn’t make sense to Tony.</p><p>Tony knows, deep down, in his heart of hearts, that he would’ve come back to Isabella, would’ve married her like he originally planned after her eighteenth birthday and they would’ve carved out a life together in the States — preferably somewhere in the Midwest or towards the South. Isabella had preferred the rural and country landscape rather than the endless frantic of the city life that Tony had grown accustomed to for most of his life. It would’ve been an adjustment, but Tony wouldn’t have minded, because he loved her.</p><p>God, Tony used to fantasize what life would have been like with her had things been different. The thoughts of the young girl that had somehow captured his heart and occupied his mind endlessly became tortuous for him, especially after he left, when he’d finally come to the conclusion that they could never be, at least not in the way that they’d both desired.</p><p>Tony could recall that era in his life; the alcohol he’d drowned himself in to mend his broken heart, dreams of what would never be, and somehow reconcile with the fact that he would eventually have to move on from the seventeen-year old girl he’d unintentionally fallen in love with.</p><p>Isabella Bonilla had been his very first love, a true love like no other. And by God he had been so utterly and embarrassingly smitten by her. He knew getting intimately caught up with the kingpin’s daughter would not only be a cliché, but also a huge recipe for disaster. And yet, he pursued her anyway despite the potential (perhaps even lethal) consequences of doing so.</p><p>Had the boy known that? Had he known that what he’d had with his mother had been far more than a fling. God, it had been<em> so</em> much more than that, but all the boy knew was that he’d abandoned his mother while she was left to give birth alone, which ultimately led to her premature death.</p><p>And it was technically true, but it had not panned out that way purposely. After he’d left Puerto Rico for good all of those years back as a result of her father’s harsh, threatening words to him, he’d never heard from Isabella again — no letters, no phone calls, nothing. Tony had always assumed her father had something to do with that. Either way, he figured it was for the best if he planned on moving on from green-eyed, brown skinned beauty.</p><p>Now, he wonders if something far more sinister was at play because of it. There had to be if the fact that Isabella becoming pregnant with his child had been purposely kept from him for all these years. He couldn’t see Isabella keeping something like that a secret from him, no matter how upset she’d been when he left her behind. She would’ve never kept something as big as that from him, not purposely at least, unless her father had a hand in keeping her silent on the matter. That was always a huge possibility that Tony wouldn’t find hard to believe given how intrusively he was involved in Isabella’s life to an abnormal degree.</p><p>On top of the fact that Angel Bonilla had wanted him dead the moment he discovered the nature of the relationship Tony had with his Isabella.</p><p>Tony considered himself fortunate to have gotten out of that situation with his face and bones intact, however it seems he hadn’t gotten away fully unscathed like he’d originally believed.</p><p>Instead, his past discretions had come back to haunt him in the worst way possible and now his daughter was paying for it, and in the end; Tony had no one else to blame now but himself because of it.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. 12. In Time... Unsensible</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“There’s a woman, she fails him every time<br/>She can’t come down, she lives to be declined<br/>It brings me back to life<br/>How can I suffer without the pain?<br/>Can we struggle without the shame?<br/>I wish I could cry<br/>I wish I could die<br/>I wish I could cry for him<br/>I wish I could die”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The blue apparitions, Morgan dreadfully awakens to, float above her, in a seemingly taunting manner — aqua in color, contrasting greatly against the red glow of the room, faceless and one big blur with the silhouette of a human.</p><p>She finds that she is unable to take her eyes away from the brightness that glowed before her. Her throat feels dry and her tongue feels heavy when she tries to speak, her limbs feel like weights when she attempts to move — to reach for her slumbering father beside her so he could finally <em>see</em> what she saw, and also for his protection, but she couldn’t move. Morgan tried, but she felt paralyzed to the mattress, sore and weighed down.</p><p>She thinks she hears it vibrate as it moves down closer towards her and she wants to scream as a spine-chilling fear overcomes her in that moment. She wishes to close her eyes and never open them again, for the earth to open up and swallow her whole, but all she can do is remain in her stillness as tears well up in her eyes, blurring her vision and she wants to die, more than anything in that moment, for her heart to stop beating, for her blood to cease from pumping through her veins and for the oxygen to permanently leave her lungs.</p><p>Morgan was better off dead than she was alive; her life had no meaning or purpose on this earth, she was going to perish in this wretched room and there was nothing she could do about it.</p><p>Her father probably hated her just as much as she hated herself at this point. How could he look at her the same way after what he’d witnessed? How could he love her when she didn’t even love herself anymore? She was ruined in her father’s eyes; disposable, she just knew it, because her own self-worth had been obliterated, whatever was left of it that is.</p><p>Tears stream down her cheeks as she begins to sob, from the pain, the fear that plagues her in that moment and frustration at her inability to do anything about it.</p><p>Morgan closes her eyes and willed the malevolent blue apparitions away that loomed over her eerily, willed herself to sleep and to hopefully never awaken again.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan, much to her dismay, awakens again, she’s not sure how much later, but to her pleasant surprise, it’s to more appealing circumstances.</p><p>“...You’re awake,” her father breathes out shakily, the immense relief in his voice brings a sense of comfort and reassurance she didn’t realize she needed until that very moment.</p><p>“Unfortunately,” Morgan quips in a wry tone of voice that was still groggy from sleep. She blinks and it’s only then that she realizes that her father has her upper half lying across his lap as he gently drags a wet towel across her bruised frame. She feels his hands tangled in her hair and she couldn’t help but lean into her father’s touch, sighing softly as she gazes up at him with heavy eyelids.</p><p>“How do you feel?” He asks, in a gentle and cautious tone, dragging the towel across her torso.</p><p>“Better now,” she murmurs, leaning her head into his gentle touch, briefly closing her eyes. “…What about you?”</p><p>“Don’t worry about me.” He replies curtly as he dips the towel in the nearby bucket full of room temperature water before bringing it back down to drag across her naked, bruised skin.</p><p>And it’s only then that she can make out the dark purple bruise covering most of his left jaw. Instinctively, she reaches a hand out to touch it, but he flinches away from her touch.</p><p>“Don’t,” he murmurs.</p><p>“I always worry about you.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t,” he replies and she feels the wet towel trail across her navel. “I’m not worth the fuss.”</p><p>Morgan frowns at her father’s unsettling words and sits up; ignoring the sense of vertigo she feels as a result and reaches a hand out to gently touch her father’s arm.</p><p>“How could you say something like that?”</p><p>“Because it’s true.”</p><p>“No it’s not.”</p><p>“Morgan—”</p><p>Before he can get another word out, she’s leaning in and pressing her lips to his, in hopes to make him feel better, in hopes of reigniting that closeness that she needed now more than ever, perhaps because it was the only way she felt could make their unbearable circumstances somewhat bearable.</p><p>Whatever her intentions were, it doesn’t matter to her father, because he’s pushing her away like she’s the bane of his existence, like she’s a disease he doesn’t want to catch, like she’s worthless in his eyes.</p><p>“Morgan, stop—”</p><p>“You hate me,” she blurts out as he grasps at her wrists, restricting her from coming any closer to him. “…You think I’m dirty.”</p><p>“What? No. I could never hate you Morgan, you know that.”</p><p>“…I hate me…”</p><p>The expression on her father’s face in response to her words tore her heart in two as tears well up in her eyes and a lump forms in her throat.</p><p>“…I don’t understand why they won’t just kill me already.”</p><p>Morgan bursts into tears and she hates that she does, because she feels it showcases just how weak and pathetic she really is and her lack of strength, especially in comparison to her father.</p><p>Her father is hoisting her up onto his lap and pulling her in for a tight embrace before she even realizes it.</p><p>Morgan sobs like the pitiful cry baby she is and all her father does in response is hold her close while threading his fingers through her hair that admittedly soothes the sinking feeling within her very core.</p><p>She doesn’t know how long she cried for, but she knows at some point, her tears dry and his fingers in her scalp eventually lull her back into a deep slumber.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan picks at the stitches on her arm as she rests between her father’s legs as he braids her hair into two long ponytails on each side.</p><p>“…Stop picking at your stitches Morgan.”</p><p>“They itch.”</p><p>“That’s because they’re healing, but if you keep scratching and picking at it, you’re going to disrupt the process and that’s a pain you do <em>not</em> want to endure on purpose.”</p><p>“…Dad?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Tell me a story.”</p><p>“What kind of story?”</p><p>“…What age did you lose your virginity and what was it like?”</p><p>“Morgan,” he momentarily pauses in his movements and groans in annoyance. “I’m not about to tell you that.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Because… why would you want to know about something like that?”</p><p>“Because I’m nosy, isn’t it obvious?”</p><p>“Nice to see you haven’t loss your sense of wit.” He quips, evoking a small smile from her in return.</p><p>“Come on dad, please? I want to know.”</p><p>“Do you?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>A heavy sigh erupts from behind her and she can’t help but feel slightly smug because she knew she’d gotten her way — one of the very few familiar dynamics that had remained between them, even in captivity while their lives hung in the balance.</p><p>“Alright,” he finally concedes with great reluctance as he begins onto the other half of her hair. “…I was fourteen and it was with a twenty-something stripper. It was back in my college days when I was consuming every drug I could get my hands on, which was pretty much everything.”</p><p>“…Was it good for you? I mean… did you enjoy it?”</p><p>“Honey, when you’re high, everything’s enjoyable.” He chuckles, but there’s a hint of sadness there that Morgan had instantly picked up on.</p><p>“…Do you regret it?” Morgan asks, moments later as the pads of her fingers graze the raw and sore skin of her arm that was beginning to turn a dark yellow hue.</p><p>“If by ‘regret’ you mean do I wish I would have waited and experienced something like that with someone I truly loved and cared about, then yes, I do.”</p><p>“Is that why you never allowed me to have a boyfriend? Is it because you didn’t want me to make the same mistake?”</p><p>“Something like that,” he replies. “That incident really screwed with my self-esteem and views on sex and relationships, which were the farthest from healthy. I was way too young and I feel like I would’ve fared better if I waited until I was older and for the right person.” He pauses in his movements and sighs, exasperatedly. “...I guess that doesn’t matter much now…”</p><p>It’s quiet between them now and Morgan is chewing on her bottom lip contemplatively.</p><p>“…Dad?”</p><p>“Mmhm?”</p><p>“I lied.”</p><p>Morgan didn’t need even need to see it for she could hear the dismay in his voice as he finished off her braid.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Morgan sighs and turns her body around to face him and sure enough, there’s a frown on his face of utter bewilderment.</p><p>“Before this happened, I’d been sneaking around with this guy I was dating. It was who I was texting all throughout that day, which was the source of our argument just before the accident. I lied to you about it and I’m sorry that I ever did.”</p><p>Morgan observes her father’s reaction, she searches for his unadulterated anger because she knew he was or at least expected him to be.</p><p>But yet, his expression remains placid and she finds that she cannot immediately identify what exactly is going through her father’s head at the moment.</p><p>Perhaps, if they’d been in a less life threatening situation, he would have been angrier, but this hopeless place they found themselves in together had a way humbling them both in ways neither of them would’ve ever foreseen.</p><p>“…How long?”</p><p>When he finally speaks, his voice is devoid of any discernible emotion and she finds that even more grating than the outright rage she’d be bracing herself for from him.</p><p>“Three months,” she answers honestly.</p><p>And she doesn’t miss the slight wince in her father’s countenance in response. He was disappointed, not so much angry as he was upset and although she was glad that he wasn’t angry with her, the disappointment etched on his face was a heavy enough blow to the gut as it would have been if he was screaming at her until she could practically see steam coming from his ears.</p><p>“We didn’t do anything,” she quickly supplies in a pathetic attempt to quell any irrational assumptions on her father’s behalf. “I didn’t do anything with him, I promise, we only kissed and sometimes I let him touch me, but that’s it.”</p><p>“You let him touch you?” Her father suddenly pipes up, startling her only momentarily. “Touch you in what way?”</p><p>Morgan feels heat rise from her chest to her neck and she finds that she is unable to hold her father’s gaze for very long as she begins to slightly fidget.</p><p>Her reaction must’ve given away what she’d desperately tried to conceal from her father, she could tell, just by the way he began to move away from her with an irritable expression.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “I shouldn’t have lied, I shouldn’t have snuck behind your back to see him, I shouldn’t have allowed him to touch me—”</p><p>“You know oral sex still counts as sex, right?”</p><p>“What? No, it never went that far between us. I swear.”</p><p>“As if that means much of anything anymore,” he mutters out, glancing away from her.</p><p>“Dad, come on now, I made a mistake. I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t hold this against me. It’s not like you haven’t made your fair share of mistakes before. You of all people should understand that.”</p><p>Her father scoffs at her words. The glint that flickers through his eyes, heavy and darkened with exhaustion and weariness, had Morgan inclined to believe she may have pushed her luck and said the wrong thing, making the situation worse than it already is.</p><p>And so, she does what she thinks will remedy her unfortunate misstep, reassure her father that she was being truthful and rectify the hurt and disappointment she knew her father felt at her deceit. She crawls up beside him on the mattress and inches closer to his body so that his elbow pressed into her torso.</p><p>When he finally turns to glance at her, she makes her move by leaning in and closing the gap between them by pressing her lips to his in a rushed and admittedly sloppy kiss that has his beard scratching against her skin and her teeth gnashing with his.</p><p>A surprised sound erupts from her father’s throat from her abrupt and unexpected actions and almost immediately, he pushes her away.</p><p>“Don’t.”</p><p>It was interesting to Morgan that her father still kept up this ruse that this was one-sided and that he didn’t crave the sense of relief and tranquility that would overcome them when they would ultimately succumb to their desires that made the hell they were in a little less painful, a little less violent and a little less tortuous.</p><p>Even his warnings didn’t sound all that convincing, she knew he wanted it, even if he’d never openly admit it. Her father would always put up some form of resistance whenever she initiated it, but in the end, when push came to shove, she would always get her way and he would always pretend as if it was something he didn’t want nor enjoy as well, and for that, a part of her would always resent him for it.</p><p>Ignoring his forewarning’s, she expertly ducks her head down a bit and darts a tongue out across his throat before nipping at the area between his neck and shoulder that always resulted in a reluctant moan escaping past his lips and a visible shutter to follow from him thereafter.</p><p>It was an obvious weak spot of his that she’d learned of not long after they began to use each other’s bodies as a source of pleasure and relief. Her father would almost always buckle under the pressure; it was as hilarious as it was arousing for her.</p><p>Morgan observes her father closely as she slid one of her hands down between their bodies and grasped the rigid flesh between his legs; she’s actually shocked to find his erection awaiting her touch, yearning for the attention she anticipated on giving to it.</p><p>When she began to tug at father’s cock, a surprised gasp erupts in response and she’s glad that he doesn’t attempt to push her hand away like she half expects him to.</p><p>The feeling is raw and a bit dry, but she knew her father had grown accustomed to the feeling, so much so, it barely bothered him much anymore. The end result was always the same for him anyhow.</p><p>Morgan startles a bit when one of his hands falls onto her wrist, expecting him to shove her hand away, but all he does is grasp it tightly in his hand, which prompts her to quicken the speed of her strokes.</p><p>When she leaned over to kiss him again, this time slipping her tongue past his lips — a trick she’d learned to master thanks to her father’s helpful advice and guidance — he groans in her mouth, which ultimately sends pleasant tingles throughout her body in response.</p><p>Her father’s cock pulsates between her fingers and a wet sensation follows thereafter, drawing out another deep groan from him as Morgan pulls away to gaze down at his erection in her grasp. The wetness was oozing from his tip, dripping down his length as her strokes gradually became faster and far more purposeful.</p><p>Morgan wets her lips and slithered away from her father like a serpent, down his body until she was running her lips along his length in a tantalizing manner. She darts a tongue out across the tip and begins to lave up the fluid that leaked, leading her to suckle at the tip, pressing the flat of her tongue against the slit.</p><p>When her father’s hand fell into her hair and his body began to tremble as he cried out her name, it was when she knew she’d finally had him right where she wanted him, that he’d finally crumbled and that façade of his withered away with just the right flick of her tongue.</p><p>“Morgan—” he mutters out shakily when she finally takes him into her mouth, sliding the rigid flesh past her lips and across the softness of her wet tongue. She crawls between his legs, into a more suitable position before taking the rest of his cock into her mouth.</p><p>The grip on her hair tightens, almost painfully so, causing one of her braided ponytails to slowly unravel as a result, and she moans around him as one of her hands close around her father’s thigh, inching upward so the pads of her fingers brush against the prickles of hair that surround his groin.</p><p>Tears spring to the corner of her eyes when she feels the tip of her father’s cock press against the back of her throat, causing her to suppress her gag reflexes and instead hollow out her cheeks, cautious of her teeth as she slowly pulls off of her father’s cock, saliva dribbling from the corners of her mouth as a result, and she begins to bob her head on his cock, squeezing at the base.</p><p>Her father was already worked up, she could tell, just by the heaviness of his breath as he struggled to suppress his groans — his reluctant pleasure — and it always spurred her on when he got like this, when she knew the guilt would resonate with him and he would push her away as a result — ice her out — and sometimes, she would let him and she would cry as a result, not because of any form of guilt from what she was engaging in with her father of all people, but because her father wouldn’t like to be touched during those times, he didn’t like to be touched by <em>her</em> and he would make it abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with her.</p><p>Morgan felt loneliest during those desolate hours, days, weeks, months without her father’s touch (she wasn’t aware of time as much as she used to be, but her father’s distance felt like eternity). It was the absolute <em>worst</em>. Morgan didn’t like the head space she would slip into during those times. It was almost as bad as when she would be visited by those blue apparitions.</p><p>...But then, there were times where she would take matters into her own hands — like now, where she would assert herself to her father in a way she never had with him before.</p><p>It was during these times where she would have her way with him and he would pretend that he wasn’t interested and that he didn’t want her, however the glint in his eyes and the base behind his groans would tell a completely different story. Those telltale signs, unbeknownst to her father, would always reveal the truth to her — the truth he so <em>desperately</em> tried to hide. Morgan would see right through it and oftentimes her father would resent her for it, even if she knew her father loved the things she made him feel in spite of it all.</p><p>When Morgan gazes up at her father as she continues to bob her head, deep throating him, she finds his weary eyes already upon her, and she visibly shivers as a result.</p><p>A long strand of hair falls into her eyes as her father’s hips begin to move, lifting up on their own accord from the mattress and thrusting himself into her mouth, causing her to slightly gag on his cock, which ignites a deep groan from him in response.</p><p>A single tear falls from her lashes as he moves the piece of hair that fell into her face out of her eyes, threading his fingers through her scalp before he grabs a fist full of her braided ponytail, tugging at it with a dark glint in his dreary gaze and begins to piston his hips, hammering away as he thrust his cock inside her mouth at a speed that had her moaning around him, gagging and suckling as saliva gathered at the corner of her mouth and dribbled down her chin.</p><p>Somehow, someway, Morgan was able to maintain eye contact throughout. Her father’s eyes were half-hooded, lips parted, skin covered in bruises — old and new — jaw slackened with barred teeth.</p><p>Her father was close and all she wanted in that moment was for him to cum, because it was only then that all of the tension in his body would release and there would be a sense of tranquility that would overcome her father thereafter, especially considering their unforeseen circumstances, he would almost return back to way he was before their lives had took a drastic turn for the worse. Morgan lived for those moments, a taste of normality from him no matter how small.</p><p>Her nails dug into the skin of his thigh to steady herself and resist the urge to pull away due to the intense pressure and slight sting from her father’s cock penetrating her mouth, his heavy, erect cock inching its way further and further down her throat with each vigorous thrust of his hips.</p><p>Morgan closes her mouth down around her father’s erection, giving him a tight wet channel to fuck into. She laps her tongue across his slit, over and over again, until her father began to aggressively writhe and tremble before he choked on a gasp and cried out her name as a warm yet familiar sticky fluid gushed down her throat thereafter.</p><p>It was so much; most of her father’s cum had trickled down the sides of her mouth and dripped down across her chest.</p><p>Morgan continued suckling her father’s cock until more of that sticky substance oozed from his cock, evoking a guttural sound from him in response. She eagerly laved up as much of his cum as she possibly could, swallowing most of it despite the odd taste she had yet to grow accustomed to. At least her father had initially warned her about it and always took the liberty to pull away, even though she would always swallow, because she knew it got her father off even more watching her taste his cum and because she wanted to prove to him that she could handle this. He needn’t baby her every step of the way. It obviously wasn’t the worst thing in the world for her.</p><p>Finally though, she pulls off of her father’s cock that still remained stiff, even as she wrapped a hand around it and gave it a few tantalizing strokes, encouraging more cum to leak from the tip, prompting her to lean down and lick him clean.</p><p>When she leans up and locks eyes with her father, he’s watching her with labored breaths; cheeks flushed red, eyes darker than usual with dilated pupils.</p><p>The glint in her father’s eyes were a combination of intense desire, indignation, and unadulterated rage. The juxtaposition of the three intense emotions was startling and she almost wonders if her father was going to strike her. The fear was buried deep within her core, laying dormant, so when he made a sudden move, she visibly winced away from his touch, and it wasn’t intentional, but mostly out of an automatic reflex — an unfortunate defense mechanism she had developed since being kept as prisoner; beaten, raped and abused for fun.</p><p>“Morgan—” he starts but she interrupts him before he could finish his sentence with a smothering kiss.</p><p>Morgan knew what her father was going to ask, which was whether or not she believed he was going to hit her, and although she knew what the truth was, she wasn’t ready to disclose that to her father. He was already dealing with a lot; the last thing she wanted was to pile on with her own shit.</p><p>He tries to pull away, but she holds her mouth to his, until he finally resigns to the fact that things, in that moment in time, were going to go her way and there was nothing he could do about it (well, there was, but he chose not exercise it, which Morgan was glad).</p><p>Morgan ends up slipping beside him and curling up next to him, sighing contentedly as he begins to play with her ponytails; a raggedy mess they were now, but she didn’t care. Her father was satisfied, at peace, relaxed, and that was all that mattered to her.</p><p>Any other time, she would have climbed on top of him and rode his cock until they were both out of breath thereafter, but she’d still been sore down there, from having a metal pipe shoved inside her, cold and rough, she tries not to shiver at the memory — at the pain, but it was hard not to.</p><p>Morgan doesn’t believe she will ever forget that horrid, traumatic feeling of being raped, used up, body bent and contorted in ways that were painful for her, but satisfactory for their assailants. No, the horrifying experience will always remain in her nightmares.</p><p>Always.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. 13. Mechanics of Emotion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“I thought I’d silenced you<br/>But here you are again<br/>Welcoming my anxiety<br/>I’ve wanted to throw you out<br/>But since you’re the gate<br/>I remain the prison<br/>I thought I’d heal from you<br/>Or you’d escaped from me<br/>Maybe I’m too scared to forget you<br/>Absorbed in total free fall<br/>I look around to realize I am the problem<br/>Am I put into this world solely to embody it?”<em></em></em>
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    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“What the hell were you thinking?”</p><p>“He was going to find out one way or another.”</p><p>“Yes, but not this way Michael. Once again, you let your emotions cloud your sense of logic and common sense. This is why I’ve <em>always </em>had to be tougher on you. You never listen to a thing I tell you. It goes in one ear and out the other! I don’t even have to speculate where you inherited that grating characteristic from.”</p><p>Miles felt a familiar heat arise in his chest as his fists tightened at his sides. He briefly closes his eyes as he lets out a shaky breath in an attempt to calm himself, the suppressed anger, the lethal rage that laid dormant within him for most of his life, since he was a small boy experiencing his first forced orgasm by a man thrice his age.</p><p>“You’re more like that son of a bitch than you will ever realize.”</p><p>Miles storms out of the room, unable to stand the malicious words from his grandfather any longer and allows his legs to carry him a great distance away from the man he’d grown to love and despise for most of his life.</p><p>And he finds himself standing on the pier near the facility he’d just come barreling out from, gazing out onto the Atlantic sea with shaky, uneven breaths.</p><p>Miles had still been adjusting to being back in Puerto Rico after so many years away. It had felt different now residing here as an adult. He wasn’t quite sure if it’d always felt this way or if it was due to the fact that he’d been so “Americanized” as his grandfather and cousins had so often reminded him.</p><p>Maybe it’d been a combination of both. Either way, being back in his birthplace had reignited a lot of old feelings and memories he thought he left behind at fourteen-years old when he was sent to live in the States at his grandfather’s request and remain there until he finished college.</p><p>Miles had been able to distract himself with overseeing the facility with his cousins when his grandfather was away, but there was always those moments when he was alone in his two-story townhouse his grandfather had gifted him as a surprise once he arrived back from the States, and it would be certain images and certain smells that would trigger a memory he must’ve blocked out at some point, and of course, it would go downhill from there.</p><p>Nearly six months had gone by and he hadn’t slept a wink since he stepped foot back in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Instead, he spent majority of his time at the facility, where his alienated father and half-sister resided, held against their will in an underground soundproof room that used to be a cellar converted into a crawlspace that one could only access by possessing the specific set of symbols coded in hieroglyphics that only a select few had — including himself, his grandfather and his uncle Elijah — conjuring up various ways to torment that son of a bitch and taking immense pleasure and relief in watching him suffer.</p><p>And it would <em>still</em> never measure up to the amount of suffering he’s had to endure practically his entire life. When he wasn’t getting pimped out by most of his grandfather’s majority male clientele, he was watching Tony play house with his blonde haired, blue eyed stepford wife and father of the year to his naïve daughter who Miles knew meant the world to him.</p><p>Miles could see that much, just from what he observed, and it burned him up inside every time he would watch that bastard pretend as if all was well, as if he had not abandoned him, and went on with his life as if he had not existed, as if he hadn’t been good enough, worthy enough for the same amount of love, attention and acknowledgement he bestowed upon Morgan.</p><p>And Morgan, his half-blood sister whom he’d grown to deeply resent over the years because her life hadn’t been nearly as miserable and traumatic as his had been. <em>She</em> was the chosen one that had been deemed as the more valuable offspring in Tony’s eyes, far more worthy to dedicate majority of his time, money and attention to.</p><p>Although Miles had saved most of his anger for his deadbeat sperm donor, he managed to spare just enough bitterness for Morgan, just because he knew hurting her would in turn hurt Tony and any opportunity he got in degrading that sack of shit, destroying him in any way that he could — whether it be mentally, emotionally or physically — it didn’t matter to Miles because he would always take it.</p><p>It’s why he jumped at the proposition from his grandfather to include him in this master plan he’d been formulating and grooming him for since he was young boy.</p><p>That was the thing with his grandfather, if Miles knew anything about the older man other than the fact that he was a cut throat businessman that valued the almighty dollar more than anything, it was also worth noting that he could hold a grudge like no other when he felt he was wronged or betrayed in some way, shape or form, and stopped at nothing to attain his retributive justice.</p><p>Grandfather Angel was as vengeful as he was cunning and those two traits always proved themselves to be oftentimes destructive and fatal to those who dared to cross him. Miles had the unfortunate experience of witnessing how pernicious and baneful his grandfather could be when he deemed it necessary and it had <em>always </em>ended in violence, gruesome and merciless he was.</p><p>Miles had been on the receiving end of his grandfather’s wrath more times than he ever liked to remember and it was only then that he learned from an early age to never be among the unlucky group of people (that included family members) whom denounced any semblance of loyalty to his grandfather.</p><p>If a man doesn’t possess the ability to be loyal, he could never be trusted. It’s what’s been instilled in him since birth and he could never forget it.</p><p>Now, the man that had double-crossed his father in the worst way possible was paying for it in all of the worst ways imaginable and Miles could honestly say he’d never seen someone as deserving of it as Tony Stark.</p><p>Miles finds himself gazing out onto the large blue Caribbean sea before him, almost as if he was in a trance as he watched the waves and ripples from the powerful currents beneath the surface, the warm breeze in the air caressing the open parts of his skin despite the fact that Fall was approaching.</p><p>It was yet another thing Miles would have to adjust to — the weather. Miles had almost forgotten how Puerto Rico was typically warm all-year round, he used to love it as a kid, because that meant he could practically play outside throughout the year without interruption due to bad weather, but now as an adult, he found the sweltering heat overwhelming and yet another reminder of how much he’d changed since he’d last been here. He found himself preferring the changing of seasons that occurred in the States, back in New York — Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter. He despised it when he’d first arrived there, but gradually grew to love it over the years until it became one of his many favorite things he began to look forward to — especially Winter. He could recall spending hours on end watching the snowfall descend from the sapphire sky outside his bedroom window during his first Christmas in the States. It’d been one of the very few pleasant memories he had from his childhood.</p><p>“…I’m nothing like that piece of shit.” Miles states aloud, whether to himself or to the presence that suddenly appears beside him, he can’t say for sure.</p><p>“You know he said that just to get under your skin.”</p><p>Miles does not even startle from the presence that appears beside him and he doesn’t even have to see the face of the voice that carried the thick yet familiar Puerto Rican accent to recognize who it was.</p><p>“It worked,” Miles replies stoically.</p><p>“You know how he is Miles, you know he says those things to garner a reaction from you and even after all these years, you still continue to play right into it and show your hand by giving him what he wants, which is why he keeps doing it.”</p><p>“…I love him Uncle Elijah; I really do… but sometimes…”</p><p>“I know mijo, I know.” His uncle sighs, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “My brother, you’re grandfather, you know he just wants the best for you, even if some of his methods in achieving that leave a lot to be desired, his heart is in the right place… for the most part…”</p><p>The latter part of his uncle’s words garners the response Miles suspects his uncle had been anticipating as a reluctant smile stretches across his face in return.</p><p>Although he’d had a turbulent relationship throughout the years with his uncle for he’d been the one that had contributed to much of his childhood trauma as well that made him into the man he was today — the good, the bad and the ugly — he <em>did</em> appreciate moments like these between them, few and far between they were, he always held them close to his chest and cherished them more than his uncle would ever truly know.</p><p>“Maybe you need a break from this place. Logan and I got it covered here for the rest of the afternoon. Have you even gone out partying since you’ve been here?”</p><p>“…No,” Miles shakes his head, glancing up at his uncle’s hazel green eyes, taking a moment to observe the way his uncle’s appearance had changed over the years. He obviously looked older now, with his salt and pepper hair, caramel complexion that bared a few noticeable wrinkles. The man was in his late-50s so it was to be expected, although objectively speaking, his uncle still maintained a healthy and fit physique, especially compared to other men in his age group, he looked pretty damn good, all things considered.</p><p>“You’re fuckin’ with me, right? Next you’re going to tell me you haven’t had any pussy either.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“Miles, mijo, you don’t know what you’re missing out on! So many young pussycats out there waiting to get toppled. What exactly is stopping you from doing just that, hm?”</p><p>“Lack of interest I guess,” Miles shrugs. “Besides, is Valeria aware of your proclivity for young pussy?”</p><p>Miles doesn’t even know why he asked in the first place when he pretty much already knew the answer. All the men in his family, as far as he knew, were notorious cheaters, and all — at least at some point — had a harem of women on the side whenever their wives or girlfriends worked their nerves or the desire for more than what they already had became much too overwhelming after a while. Hell, even his grandfather had been guilty of this before his grandmother had passed away from lung cancer. At least his grandfather had the decency to be discreet about it, especially in his grandmother’s last days.</p><p>His uncles and cousins on the other hand held no issue with parading their mistresses around across town and would challenge anyone who dared to question it, even their own wives who eventually conceded to the fact that their husbands were going to have their mistresses on the side and they would be left with the choices of either leaving (and run the risk of being ostracized from their local community because of it and also losing out on the lifestyle their husbands could provide them with) or accept it and nine out of ten times, most of them chose to accept it no matter how much they resented it.</p><p>“As long as I never bring them around her, she’s as cool as a cucumber.” His uncle laughs.</p><p>“Is that why Logan told me that you’d recently just gotten out of the dog house after she’d caught the scent of another woman’s perfume on you?”</p><p>“How could I forget how much of a blabber mouth your cousin is? I swear, I have not a clue where he gets it from.”</p><p>Miles rolls his eyes in jest, but he has to admit, his spirits had been somewhat lifted despite the heaviness he felt in his chest that seemed ubiquitous for as long as he could remember.</p><p>“Listen mijo, I’ll talk to Angel, don’t you worry about him. What I want you to do is take this time to go out, mingle, have a little fun, and find yourself a sexy sweetheart and burn off some steam. You’re twenty-two, you’re in your prime mijo, you should be living it up.”</p><p>“I don’t know—”</p><p>“It’s not really a request Michael, more like an order. Comprendes?”</p><p>“Sí.” He answers as he rolls his eyes in jest.</p><p>“Good, now off you go.”</p><p>His uncle begins to shoo him away with a flick of his wrist and reluctantly, he leaves the large island the facility resided on and decides to try as best as he could to take his uncle’s advice. Perhaps it would help take the edge off. It’d been awhile since he’d last gotten laid. He’d been so focused on seeing the year’s long plan through that he’d had the privilege of being a part of executing; he’d unintentionally allowed his social life to fall by the wayside as a result.</p><p>Contrary to what his uncle and the rest of his family may have believed about him, he’d never been much of a wild party-goer or a sex maniac like the rest of the men in his family. Miles could count on his fingers the amount of girls he’d slept with after leaving to the States. Perhaps his upbringing had something to do with it and the fact that sex had always been something he’d had to endure rather than enjoy like most people.</p><p>Miles found joy in many other things in life, but he wouldn’t lie, some sex therapy would be quite nice right about now. Sex could be a huge stress reliever for him, but only when it was on <em>his</em> terms and conditions of course.</p><p>Miles figured that perhaps finding a good lay would do him some good, help him relax and get out of his own head for a bit. What was the worst that could happen?</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“You’re too hard on him.”</p><p>“He gives me no other choice. What he did was stupid, impulsive and purely driven by emotion rather than logic. That mentality is going to inevitably lead him to his own demise if he isn’t careful. I’ve told him that before, time and time again, since he was a small bebé, he should know better by now, and yet he continues to disappoint me with his lack of utter sense that boy.”</p><p>“Oh, come on now Angel, that man is his biological father we are talking about, not some random person off the street. This isn’t easy for Michael—”</p><p>“Then he shouldn’t have agreed to this if he couldn’t handle it, if he was going to be an emotional wreck over that piece of shit, he could’ve said no, he had a choice.”</p><p>“Did he really?” Elijah quips, eyeing his brother, older by a year. “Does anyone <em>truly</em> have a choice when it comes to you?”</p><p>“Bottom line is, he fucked up and if he fucks up again, I’m cutting him loose. There has been entirely too much time and energy put into this for it to be ruined because Michael can’t control himself.”</p><p>“He made one mistake Angel, he’ll be fine. He had a moment of weakness, but he’s kept his head thus far.”</p><p>“Where is he now?” Angel asks, as if his brother had not uttered a word, keeping his eyes on the monitors where the father and daughter duo slumbered.</p><p>“I gave him the rest of the day off. The boy looked like he needed it.”</p><p>“It’s probably for the best. I don’t need him here if he isn’t contributing anything useful other than a temper tantrum.” The older man sighs and glances down at his Rolex watch. “Make sure you have Logan shadow him, make sure the boy doesn’t do anything stupid or reckless again.”</p><p>“Already on it,” Elijah replies, slipping out his phone from his pocket and texting his nephew the orders. “Anything else?”</p><p>“Yes. You are to remain here until Logan returns and then you two can alternate until the night security crew arrives, then you two can retire for the rest of the night.”</p><p>Elijah nods.</p><p>“And what will you be up to in the meantime?”</p><p>“With Cassandra, she’s been begging to spend some ‘quality time’ together and this is her night off, so I figure I might take her for a night out on the town.”</p><p>“Sounds romantic,” Elijah smirks. “But for your sake, I hope Alexa doesn’t catch wind of that. The chica’s loco.”</p><p>“She’s a passionate woman Eli, feisty and determined, that’s all.”</p><p>“The sex must be mind-blowing if you’re willing to put up with her ass and all of her antics.”</p><p>“It is hermano, it is.” Angel smirks, reaching for his car keys. “I have to go; you have everything covered, correct?”</p><p>“Of course, Logan and I will be fine. Enjoy your night with mamacita for me, will ya?” Elijah winks.</p><p>“Watch yourself Eli.”</p><p>Elijah laughs while Angel smiles, heading for the door.</p><p>“Just like old times.” Elijah muses. “Just like old times…”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“…He frightens me sometimes…”</em>
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  <em>Tony averts his eyes away from the popcorn ceiling of the motel room they resided in and onto the petite young girl that lay beside him, also naked, but wrapped up by the bed sheets like a burrito. The sight alone would’ve made him laugh had it not been for the anguished look painted across her pretty, cherubic face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Who?” He asks despite the fact that he has inkling as to whom she was referring to.</em>
</p><p><em>“My father Anthony, my father, </em>he <em>frightens me. The way he acts sometimes — especially when he drinks — the way he touches me—”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Touches you?” Tony frowns, discarding the cigarette he’d been smoking into the nearby ashtray situated on the dresser beside the large king sized bed they currently occupied. “What do you mean by that? He’s never hit you has he?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What is it?” Tony asks, turning to face her now as she had his undivided attention. “What does he do?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He frowns at the way she looks away from him and begins to fidget. It was a habit hers that she often did when she was nervous about something or generally feeling uneasy. Tony would tease her about it from time to time, but something about the way she was acting now unnerved him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Belle…” he murmurs with furrowed brows. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Sometimes… sometimes he…” she pauses for a moment, letting out a shaky breath before she continues. “…Almost every night since my eleventh birthday, he’s waited until mother falls asleep, and he’ll come into my room, usually around three in the morning, with his robe on and he’s naked underneath, and he’ll crawl into bed with me and he’ll whisper things in my ear like how proud he was of me, how happy he was that I’m his daughter, and how beautiful I am, and then he… he…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The young girl bursts into tears before she could finish, not that Tony needed her to anyway. The message she was trying to convey to him was evident and he felt something uncomfortably tight and heavy settle in his chest at the sight of her sobbing into her hands that covered her face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony pulled her hands away from her face and planted small, affectionate kisses to her forehead and cheeks before pulling her into his embrace where she buried her face into the crook of his neck, holding onto him for dear life.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Sometimes, I hate him so much Anthony. He wants to control every aspect of my life, like I’m not even a human being, but an object to him, a toy that he can pick up and play with whenever he feels like it and discard me like trash when he’s done. He can be so cruel...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Does anyone else know?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…My father threatened me that if I ever told anyone, he would slice my throat open. You’re the only person I’ve ever told. I think my mother suspects it, but I don’t think she’d ever confront him about it. There’s a part of my mother that has always idolized my father. I think she also fears him as well, of the things he’s capable of. There’s a side to my father that can be so ruthless and cold-hearted and I guess she knows that deep down, if it ever came down to it, my father would not hesitate to destroy those whom he can no longer trust. He operates like a switch and can turn his emotions off and on, depending on the person and the situation. It’s quite frightening.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Isabella pulls away from him, sniffling as she rubs at her eyes in a way that Tony found utterly adorable, and he reaches a hand out to grasp her chin so that those emerald eyes lock with his — red-rimmed and puffy they were, but striking nonetheless.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s not your fault Belle, that he does those awful things to you, I hope you realize that.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I just lie there like a statue Anthony, I don’t do anything to stop it, all I do is lay there and cry. That’s all I can ever have the strength to do. I feel so weak.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re not weak Isabella, you and I both know that. You’re one of the strongest people I know. And what your father does to you is not a reflection of yourself but of him. He’s the fucked up one, not you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Those wide green eyes avert from his, almost as if in shame and Tony hates it, hates the fact that she feels any sort of burden or guilt for being sexually abused by her morally bankrupt father.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony threads his fingers through her wavy, jet black hair that felt soft and silky between his fingers. She leans into his touch and he presses a kiss to the side of her head as she sighs.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Sometimes when he forces himself inside me, all I want is to die…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony turns to face her again, alarmed, and tears drip from her lashes as she avoids eye contact.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I would go insane if I ever lost you Isabella. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She looks at him, sniffling, and a small, tearful smile graces her face as she gazes up at him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re the only thing that keeps me going, that gives me strength and hope that one day, things will be different, that there is someone out there for me to fight for on days I feel like giving up.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony smiles at her words, feeling something warm and pleasant tingle in his belly as he moves to roll on top of her, brushing his fingers through her hair, which she always seemed to enjoy judging by the way she would visibly revel in his touch.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And God, she was beautiful; he was spellbound by it. Tony had encountered many beautiful women in his life thus far, from exotic models, to actresses, to morning news anchors, but none of them compared to Isabella, none of them had that glow about them that was as pure and sublime as Isabella’s. Her beauty was one of a kind that Tony had never encountered before, because perhaps, it was also her inner beauty that radiated from the inside out. As cheesy as it sounded, it was true.</em>
</p><p><em>Isabella had an aura about her that was magnetic, transfixing, and enthralling. He noticed it the first time her father had introduced him to her and he’d immediately found that he could not take his eyes off of her, could not get her sweet smile or the taste of her kisses out of his mind, and no matter how hard he’d tried, he </em>had <em>to have her and he’d known it from the moment he laid eyes on her despite everything in his mind and heart telling him to dismiss his inclinations of entertaining anything remotely romantic with her due to her age and also her paternal origins.</em></p><p>
  <em>Obviously that plan went to shit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But, he could not say with a clear conscious that he’d regretted any of it, he loved her too much to ever regret any second he’d spent with her thus far, despite their less than ideal circumstances.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Somehow, someway, Isabella had woven her way into the deepest, most tender parts of his heart, entangled herself into his very core, tugging at his heartstrings at every chance she got. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony had fallen in love with her and at this point, there was nothing he could do about it but accept it, he could no longer deny it or pretend those feelings were a figment of his imagination. No, they were real — too real — and they wouldn’t leave him alone. Tony found that he didn’t want them to, at least not anymore like back when he initially discovered them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…I’m going to marry you one day, you know that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t tease me, Anthony.” She sniffles.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m not teasing you Belle, I’m serious. I’ve never felt this way with anyone else — and that’s saying a lot. Trust me.” He chuckles and she smiles in response, blinking away the tears that gathered at the corner of her eyes. “...I’m in love with you Isabella…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her face flushes at his words, radiant brown skin tinting an adorable shade of pink, her bright green eyes glistening with tears, but also with desire and warmth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you too Anthony, more than I’ve ever loved anyone else in my entire life.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s a lot of love,” Tony chuckles out breathlessly, in an attempt to mask his pleasant surprise from her heartfelt words.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It is,” she replies, wrapping her arms around his neck and rolling atop of him, straddling his hips and gazing down at him with a smirk on her pretty plump lips. “…I’ve got a lot of love to give you Anthony Stark, do you think you can you handle it?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes…” Tony breathes out, running a hand down the length of her naked spine as the sheets naturally peeled away from her frame. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you sure?” The young girl smiles mischievously as she leans down and nuzzles her nose against his. “It could get you in trouble if you’re not careful. Is that what you really want?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Trouble’s my middle name sweetheart.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Isabella laughs, showcasing her adorable dimples and pearly white teeth that made his heart melt at the sight and something in his belly feel like it was doing somersaults. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pulls her down for a searing kiss, which she gladly accepts, eventually sobering up from the laughter and deepening the kiss.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When he pulls away to gaze up at her, he lifted a hand up and ran it down across the side of her face. She smiled and bit down on her lip tantalizingly as that same hand of his drifted down pass her chest to take her left breast in his hand, thumb flicking across her brown areola, evoking a moan from her in response.</em>
</p><p><em>“…I meant what I said about marrying you Isabella, taking you away from here, away from your father so he’d never be able to lay his </em> <em>filthy fucking hands on you again.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“…We could live in a cottage somewhere in the Midwest or the South — maybe Ohio, Missouri, or West Virginia.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Those are oddly specific.” Tony chuckles, clearly amused.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” She asks, her mood quickly shifting from hopeful and optimistic to anxious and uneasy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, no, of course not, I just… thought you would be more of a city girl, like New York, Washington, DC, Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“City life is overrated, I prefer the quiet, close-knit community that encompasses small rural towns that would typically be found in Middle America.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s… a rather endearing perspective.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You think you’d be willing to forfeit the city life for your querida?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Anything for mi amor,” Tony grins, tugging away the rest of the sheet that concealed her naked frame. “Anything for you…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Anthony,” she chews on her bottom lip again as he gazes up at her. “I love you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tony grins.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you too, sweet girl.”</em>
</p><p><em>Isabella giggles as he flips them over and Tony proceeds to make love to her for hours on end, until they were both too exhausted to move</em>.</p><p>“…Dad… daddy…”</p><p>Tony grunts, startling awake at the feeling of being shaken. His eyes fly open, barely adjusting to the dim lighting that is restricted by a silhouette hovering above him. He peers up at the figure, alarmed and immediately on high alert, until his vision settles upon those familiar hazel brown eyes locked with his in a way that immediately disturbed him.</p><p>Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, he struggles to sit up and face his daughter that peered at him like she’d seen a ghost.</p><p>“Daddy…” she whimpers.</p><p>“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks in a frantic, admittedly panicked manner.</p><p>Morgan moves in closer to him and it’s only then that he realizes she’s trembling and the clearer his vision becomes, he sees that her complexion is nearly ashen in appearance and her skin felt frigid against his warm skin as she snuggled up next to him, to which he instinctively wraps his arm around her protectively.</p><p>“Morgan—?”</p><p>“I was drowning, a serpent strangled me with its body until I couldn’t breathe, you tried to help me, to save me, but you couldn’t. You tried <em>so</em> hard, but you just couldn’t.”</p><p>Morgan continues to tremble and Tony pulls her in even closer to him, purely out of paternal instinct that he never believed he’d ever have, but then Morgan came along and changed everything he always thought to be true, completely flipping his world upside down without a single care in the world.</p><p>It sort of reminded him of Isabella, in an odd and uncanny way, and in fact, the more he began to think about it, the more unnerved he became at the dynamics he had with his daughter spawned from their hellish circumstances.</p><p>And the dream Morgan described to him that she’d had unsettled him more than he’d visibly let on. The premise of it sounded akin to the one he’d been having just before they were abducted.</p><p>The dream was a symbolic one and served as a forewarning of how his life and Morgan’s would soon take a dark and sadistic turn that neither of them could have ever imagined.</p><p>Tony didn’t want to believe that things could get any worse than they already had, but if he’s learned anything while being held hostage in a place that was literally hell on earth was to expect the unexpected and that <em>anything</em> was possible. This had been one of the rare occasions where Tony would not be able to buy himself or his daughter protection. Money wasn’t going to get them out of this shitty situation. It wasn’t going to be enough.</p><p>This had nothing to do with money or a bad business deal gone wrong like Tony had initially suspected. No, this was a <em>personal</em> vendetta that dated back years beforehand. This was something that had obviously been in a vault for a while now and had been in the making for quite some time now.</p><p>It chilled him to the bone when he let his mind wonder about how long a target had been on his back unknowingly. It had been quite evident to Tony that this plan must’ve taken quite a few years to devise and perfect and when the perfect opportunity presented itself, it was taken in such a violent and unexpected way, completely catching Tony off guard, when he’d been vulnerable. He’d been rendered powerless and defenseless as a result — two of the very things Tony absolutely despised the most.</p><p>He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen this coming and that he’d let his guard down, even for a second, allowing his enemies an opening to destroy him in the worst way possible and it cost him his own safety as well as his daughter’s.</p><p>And God knows how Pepper was handling all of this and Rhodey as well. He missed his wife and best friend sorely and he often wondered how much time had gone by — he never knew what day or hour it was and it fucked with him not knowing exactly how long they’d been in this hellhole for. It felt like eternity and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this hopeless in his life. He hated everything now, but most of all: himself for his inability to formulate a strategy, a plan, a solution of some sort to save himself and his daughter from this.</p><p>The irony of it all had not been lost on him either. The fact he was a damn genius for goodness sake, spent his entire life being lauded over for his intellect and breathtaking solutions to problems no man could possibly solve. It was he who had been able to create these mind-blowing resolutions unlike anyone else — and yet, when he needed that supreme intelligence and problem solving intellect the most, he was met with utter and complete silence, blankness, emptiness.</p><p>That was always how it was, wasn’t it? Perhaps, a part of Tony could accept that maybe, just maybe, this could’ve been his karma for fucking around in his twenties with an underage girl whom was the daughter of a notorious kingpin, known around the world for distributing the best cocaine known to man, for being such a reckless arrogant junkie, never giving a care in the world how his actions would later affect him.</p><p>But what kept him from fully accepting his just deserts was Morgan. Morgan had absolutely <em>nothing</em> to do with his past. She hadn’t deserved an ounce of what she’d been put through thus far, the physical and sexual abuse, the psychological torment, constantly suffering from the sins he’d committed long before she’d ever been so much as a thought.</p><p>And whether she would ever admit to it or not, he knew, to some extent, on a subconscious level, she’d resented him for all of this, for their circumstances, for his inability to protect her from the wrath of their assailants, for being so pathetically weak during the times where she was so heart-wrenchingly vulnerable and desperately needed his protection most. And perhaps the strangest thing about it all was how he could be her father in one moment, sometimes her opposition in another, and oftentimes her lover in the next.</p><p>And the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if he was any better than Angel Bonilla and if the words that floated around in his head from his alleged son about his “animalistic instincts” that’d been subconsciously suppressed for all these years, laying dormant, until it eventually came bubbling to the surface yet again and he’d proceeded to act them out with his daughter.</p><p>All of those times he’d listened to Isabella confide in him about how awful her father was to her; the explicit, grimy details of the unspeakable acts Angel Bonilla committed against his own daughter, the way she constantly struggled with hating and loving her father simultaneously, adoring him in one moment and hating his guts in the next. And yet, Tony had done the exact same thing he swore he despised Angel Bonilla for doing to Isabella.</p><p>Tony recollects thinking of Angel with such disdain and disgust after finding out the kind of things he subjected Isabella to on a constant basis. Tony had his own issues with his father, no doubt, however he still couldn’t understand how a father — a man that was supposed to nurture and protect — could commit such heinous acts against his own child — his own flesh and blood — destroying their sense of innocence and defiling their bodies like Angel had done to Isabella countless times whilst feeling very little remorse for it.</p><p>It was cold, sadistic, and psychopathic in nature, and yet, Tony had turned around and mimicked the exact same primitive behavior with Morgan.</p><p>In fact, Tony was <em>worse</em> than his own father, worse than Angel Bonilla, because he’d known better and he proceeded to do it anyway.</p><p>The very first time he’d touched his daughter, taken her virginity he means, was barely excusable and could be chalked up to doing whatever it took to protect his daughter against their sadistic assailants — just barely. But all of the other times that followed afterwards was undoubtedly from his own doing.</p><p>No one was holding a gun to his head when he’d kissed her, no one forced him to develop those sinister, incestuous feelings towards his own daughter as he watched her slumber, admiring her naked form from afar in a way that felt unnatural for Tony. No one forced him to pin her down and contort her petite, adolescent body in ways he found sexually appetizing, fucked her with a passion and intensity that always left him delivering some of the best and most powerful orgasms he’d ever experienced in his life, actively chasing his own pleasure at whatever cost and using his daughter’s body that was always pliable to his touch as a form of escapism from their horrific reality.</p><p>Tony had known it was wrong, but he did it anyway, over and over and <em>over</em> again, because he desired an escape he could not provide her. He allowed his lust and seemingly insatiable appetite for his daughter’s supple body, her liquid smooth skin marked with bruises — pinks, blues and purples — to consume him and cloud whatever sense of logic he had left.</p><p>Tony could admit his moral compass had always been a bit off — okay, perhaps <em>way</em> off — and that he’d done a lot of deplorable things throughout his life that he wasn’t proud of, but <em>this</em> was on an <em>entirely</em> different universe of fucked up, even for him.</p><p>Nothing would ever excuse the irrevocable damage he’d caused, not only to himself, but his daughter as well, and their relationship that would be changed forever. It would never return to the way it was before after this.</p><p>And if Morgan hadn’t despised him now, she would after she found out the truth of why they’d ended up in this shit hole in the first place. All of it came back to <em>him</em> and <em>his</em> unending baggage that she had no obligation to carry and his boatload of issues that Morgan had nothing to do with. It always did.</p><p>And perhaps it was why he was getting just what he deserved, years and years of sowing his wild oats in his youth, sowing seeds of discord. He was reaping it now in the worst way imaginable. Tony could not even say with a clear conscious that he didn’t deserve any of it. The only thing he could say was that Morgan had been the least deserving of it all and he would always harbor a deep-seated hatred for himself for being the sole foundation of her eternal suffering.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. 14. Decay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>“And I’ll fall on my knees<br/>Tell me how’s the way to be<br/>Tell me how’s the way to go<br/>Tell me all that I should know<br/>And I’ll fall on my knees<br/>To evoke some empathy<br/>Danger will follow me<br/>Everywhere I go”<em></em></em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Pepper lets out an audible cry of agony as she grasps at her swollen, seven month pregnant belly as she doubles over, vomiting into the toilet, using her other hand to grasp onto the edge of the sink as she gets to her knees as she began to feel her legs weaken a bit under her own weight.</p><p>Tears blurred her vision as she rested her back against the sliding glass door of the entrance to the shower she’d just departed from. To say the last few months had been complete and utter <em>hell</em> for her would be a massive understatement.</p><p>Pepper would’ve never imagined her pregnancy would turn out this way, full of despair and unadulterated anguish almost every other day. She knew that it wouldn’t be easy, but she did somewhat expect it to get better as time progressed, but boy was she wrong.</p><p>She thought her pregnancy would pan out similarly to how it was with Morgan, morning sickness few and far between, weekly yoga sessions, and generally in high spirits. But no, <em>this</em> had been the complete opposite. Every other day was a battle to even possess enough strength and energy to get out of bed, many days she didn’t even bother, and other times, she forced herself to for her own piece of mind.</p><p>Pepper often felt sluggish, nauseous and weak, too weak to leave the house most days. She could hardly keep food down anymore, which inevitably resulted in significant weight loss over the course of the past five months. She did not possess that same radiant glow that she had when she’d been pregnant with Morgan, did not carry that same lightness or lively aura that she’d previously had.</p><p>There had been a dark cloud that followed her and for the first time in her life since her father’s untimely death, she felt depressed and she wasn’t happy. She found herself returning to that dark headspace she swore to herself she would never return to again after her father’s passing.</p><p>And as expected, the darkness that lingered within her could not help but seep out unto her outward appearance that everyone could see, including James, who stuck by her side through it all despite her unpredictable mood swings.</p><p>Most people chalked it up to her mourning the loss and absence of her husband who wouldn’t be here to ever meet his unborn child, which was partially true. The further along she’d gotten, the realer the reality without Tony became for her and that she would be entering into this new chapter in her life as a widow and a single mother, two major tasks she would have to take on and truthfully speaking, she was beginning to question her own ability to handle it all.</p><p>However, it wasn’t <em>only</em> that. It was the fact that she’d suspected for the longest that something was… off and not quite right. Dr. Bonilla had reassured her that she was in good health as well as her baby, but Pepper couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of doubt the sicker she became as well as her drastic change in appearance over a short span of time.</p><p>Dr. Bonilla assured her that she had nothing to fret about and that as long as she wasn’t partaking in activities that were physically “strenuous” or emotionally draining and getting as much bed rest as she recommended, she was fine.</p><p>Despite her gut-feeling telling her the complete opposite, Pepper trusted Dr. Bonilla’s words and tried not stress about it too much despite the mental and physical anguish she was in on a constant basis.</p><p>“Two months to go sweetheart, only two more months to go…” Pepper murmurs, her hand circling her swollen belly in a soothing manner.</p><p>Eventually she arises from the floor when she feels most of the nausea has dissipated, flushing the toilet and proceeding to wash her hands and begin her morning routine despite the ever whirling thoughts swirling around in her head for the remainder of the day.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“...I should probably tell you this before you end up finding out any other way.”</p><p>Pepper frowns at James as they enter the baby stroller section of Costco. Pepper had decided to pour most of her energy into preparing for the baby’s arrival instead of moping around the house, sulking in her own despairing thoughts that would never lead to anything productive.</p><p>James had decided to join in on her extravagant shopping for the new addition, which she had zero objections to. The company James always provided her with was always pleasant and enjoyable, especially when she needed it most.</p><p>“Tell me what exactly?” Pepper asks with furrowed brows as she stops near an aqua colored car seat that caught her eye. “Please tell me it’s good news at least. I could use some of that right about now.”</p><p>James chuckles in response.</p><p>“Well, honestly, I think it could go either way, but I’m just hoping it doesn’t go left.” Pepper glances at him expectantly with an inquisitive quirk of her brows before James lets out a sigh. “…I’ve been in a relationship with Alejandra — Doctor Bonilla I mean — for the past three months.”</p><p>James is peering over at her and she could tell he was trying to read her, to capture her initial reaction to his revelation, expecting the unexpected it seems.</p><p>And Pepper can’t lie to herself, she is genuinely shocked by the news, mystified by it, not exactly angry, but she wasn’t thrilled by it either. It was odd.</p><p>“Three whole months? It must be serious.” She quips, in a weak attempt at trying to mask her obvious dismay of the situation.</p><p>“Sort of,” James chuckles as they make their way down the long aisle of car seats. “We are taking things slow, but we really do like each other.”</p><p>“…You could’ve told me a lot sooner than this James. I’m not a child. You don’t have to handle me with kid gloves every time something comes up that you think I won’t be able to handle.”</p><p>“Pep,” James sighs, turning to face her completely. “That’s not why I kept this from you—”</p><p>“Then why did you?” She counters, her tone coming off a lot more defensive and antagonistic than she intended. “What other reason is there?”</p><p>“Plenty, but most of all, I didn’t want things to be awkward.”</p><p>“Why would it be awkward?”</p><p>“She’s your OB-GYN and the circumstances are less than ideal. Honestly, it wasn’t planned at all, it just… sort of happened. We exchanged numbers and got to talking and, well, the rest is history.” James shrugs as he trails behind her as they make their way down the next aisle of car seats.</p><p>“I’m not upset,” Pepper lies, right through her teeth. “I just wish you hadn’t felt the need to keep it from me. It’s your life at the end of the day and you deserve happiness, no matter who it’s with.”</p><p>Though Pepper had meant what she said about James being deserving of happiness, she couldn’t quell the part of her that simmered with resentment and maybe, just maybe, a bit of jealousy too.</p><p>It was no secret that over the course of seven months, Pepper had grown exponentially closer to James. She had always maintained a great bond with him over the years, they’d always gotten along quite well, but things had undoubtedly changed after the untimely death of Tony and Morgan and it affected the dynamics between quite drastically.</p><p>And by that she means that it brought them closer together, closer than they ever had been before, and Pepper knows that if James hadn’t of been there for her, hadn’t been by her side while she struggled to accept and adjust to her new life without her husband and daughter, she would’ve been worse off.</p><p>James had been her sole support system, her rock throughout it all, and she supposes that a part of her — a large part of her — did not want to lose him if his attention became split with someone else; with another woman that wasn’t her. She did not want to share James with anybody else.</p><p>Pepper clung to James in ways that could be deemed as borderline codependent and perhaps unhealthy, especially to him and his love life. She found herself drawn to his genuine sweetness, caring heart and thoughtfulness. Honestly, she should’ve known that it wouldn’t be long before someone else spotted those rare, unique qualities within him. Pepper should’ve expected this to happen at some point.</p><p>It was utterly selfish and Pepper had felt ashamed of herself for harboring such feelings. James had been there for in every possible way there is to be there for someone. The least she could do was return the favor, even if wasn’t coming from an entirely sincere place.</p><p>“That means a lot Pepper,” James smiles and she can admit, it does lift her spirits, if only a little bit.</p><p>“Why don’t you invite her over? The both of you I mean. We can have dinner together.”</p><p>The words come barreling out before Pepper could stop them and by the time that they do, it’s far too late to take any of it back.</p><p>James appears pleasantly surprised at her words and regards her with contemplation.</p><p>“That… doesn’t sound half bad. It would give you a chance to get to know her better, on a more intimate level other than routine doctor appointments.” James chuckles. “…But, are you sure about this?”</p><p>“Why not? If she’s gotten your attention, I know she must be noteworthy.”</p><p>“You’re expectations of me are far too high.” James laughs, running his fingers alongside one of the car seats as he glances at the design which seemed to pique his interest. “...What about this one?”</p><p>“You did it to yourself, really.” Pepper replies in an amused tone of voice. “Hmm, I actually like that one…”</p><p>Just as they begin reading additional information on the item, someone appears before them, a voice that slightly startles them as they glance up at the Costco employee who donned a bright, cheery smile on their face.</p><p>“It looks like the sweet couple has settled on an item that suits your interests, yes?”</p><p>“Oh, uh, we aren’t a couple, just friends.” James interjects awkwardly.</p><p>“Oh, my apologies, you two seemed so in-sync with one another, I mistook it for something else.” The employee laughs. “Anyways, would you like check out this item?”</p><p>“Yes, that would be great! Thank you.” Pepper replies, glancing at James and offering an sheepish smile while James rolls his eyes in jest as the employee beckons for them to follow towards the cash register.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Pepper runs shaky, frail fingers through her hair as she gazes at herself in the mirror.</p><p>Pepper felt uneasy and unlike herself. She’d spent the majority of the day alternating between cooking and vomiting. She could barely keep much of anything down and the sense of vertigo she felt every few minutes when she stood for prolonged amounts of time definitely hadn’t helped the situation.</p><p>All she wanted to do is crawl into her bed and cry her eyes out, but she couldn’t, at least not today of all days. Pepper would be having dinner with James and his newfound girlfriend, who also happened to be her OB-GYN.</p><p>They’d be here within the hour. It was far too late to cancel plans, even if she wanted to, which she did. Her nausea and dizzy spells would not go away no matter how hard she willed them to. The overall exhaustion, fatigue and lassitude she’d been feeling throughout the duration of the day was really taking its toll on her.</p><p>Pepper, with great dread, gazed into the apathetic blue eyes that stared back at her in the mirror that were nearly unrecognizable, even to her own eyes. She could immediately spot the weariness within them, the discontentment and her general state of her restlessness, despite the pounds of makeup she piled on in a pathetic attempt at disguising her gauntly appearance without it.</p><p>She straightens out her large sweater that hid her skeletal frame. Whether consciously or unconsciously, Pepper had taken to wearing maternity clothing that disguised her thinning frame. Most of her weight was in her pregnant belly now, her collarbones had become much more pronounced as the months went by as well as her shoulder blades and hips that had protruded against her skin in an ghastly way.</p><p>Pepper had always been on the slender side for most of her life, but she’d never gotten <em>this</em> cadaverous. She was hallow-cheeked, skin-and-bones now — even her complexion had begun to look a bit ashen, a dull grayish in color, and her eyes appeared sunken into her face, not as lively or zestful as they had once been.</p><p>The drastic transitions her body and overall appearance had undergone in a span of months had all been carefully and strategically concealed by the makeup and large clothing she chose to wear — just barely.</p><p>It was getting difficult to hide though and Pepper wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up before the concerned looks and endless questions came. Pepper was sure James had noticed, but had yet to confront her about it. She hoped she would be able to get it together before it came to that.</p><p>After reapplying her signature matte red lip, she wobbles across the room to retrieve her flats. She could no longer stand to walk in heels anymore, they made her back ache like something fierce and caused painful cramps in her feet as a result, forcing her to make the conscious decision to stay away from them throughout the duration of her pregnancy and instead invest in flats or tennis shoes. They were far more comfortable for her.</p><p>Pepper wobbles back over to her vanity to retrieve her prenatal vitamins, wasting no time unscrewing the cap and tossing the familiar beige tablet into her mouth and reaching for the glass of water nearby to wash it down.</p><p>“It’ll only be for a few hours, everything will be fine, everything will be okay…”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“Pepper! My goodness, the supper was absolutely amazing! I haven’t had pasta that delicious since I was a youngster.”</p><p>“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I was hoping you would.” Pepper giggles, despite the sense of vertigo that momentarily hits her as she arises from her seat, grasping hold of the chair to steady herself from damn near toppling over. “But wait until you try the desert, it’ll blow your mind.”</p><p>“I can’t wait!” Alejandra beams. “Let me help you with the dishes.”</p><p>“You’re a guest in my home Alejandra; it would be rude of me to—”</p><p>“Allow me,” James offers, gathering two of their plates together along with his own in one fell swoop.</p><p>“James—?”</p><p>“Its fine,” James reassures her with a bright grin, heading towards the kitchen. “Relax! I’ll get the deserts prepared.”</p><p>“Thank you James.”</p><p>James offers her a wink over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner, leaving the two women to their own devices.</p><p>“How’re you feeling?” Alejandra immediately asks, catching her off guard. “You look a little pale.”</p><p>“I’m fine, honest, just a bit tired. I’ve been puking my guts out 24/7 and that’s never fun, but I’ll manage.”</p><p>“You’ve been keeping up with your prenatal vitamins, yeah?”</p><p>“Religiously,” Pepper laughs, despite the dismal feeling she harbored within. “I’ve just been waiting for it to eventually kick in because these past few months have been… rough.”</p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alejandra empathizes, reaching a hand out and placing it atop of her own and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Have you been getting enough rest lately? James tells me you’ve been struggling a bit. He’s worried, you know.”</p><p>“Is he?”</p><p>“Yes, of course, he always talks about you and how important you are to him, especially after he’s lost his best friend in the entire world, your late husband; it’s obvious he cares for you deeply. He just wants you happy and healthy, that’s all.”</p><p>“…He’s a good man.” Pepper declares with a soft smile.</p><p>“He is. He’s truly an angel; good men like him are so hard to come by these days. He’s like a needle in the haystack.” Alejandra chuckles.</p><p>“Okay, what did I miss?” James asks as he returns holding two plates with single slices of German chocolate cake on each of them.</p><p>“Just us going on and on about what a sweetheart you are, nothing serious.” Alejandra winks before her eyes fell on the dessert placed in front of her. “Oh, this looks delicious Pepper. I love German chocolate cake!”</p><p>Pepper had only been a few cautious bites in before that feeling returned, of queasiness and lightheadedness, and she tries her best to ignore it, but it becomes damn near impossible when the nausea takes over completely. She pushes her plate away and arises from her seat on wobbly legs.</p><p>“Pepper?” James asks, turning to face her as he sobers up from his laughter at something Alejandra had said. “Pepper, are you okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, just… just a little—”</p><p>“Pepper!” James shrieks, rushing to her side just before she blacks out completely.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“How’re things going with the wife?”</p><p>“As expected, she’s as sick as a dog. She’s been taking those tainted ‘vitamins’ of yours religiously and it shows.”</p><p>“The Accutane is working.” Angel laughs haughtily over the phone. “I wonder what side effects that scoundrel will inherit.”</p><p>“It could be anything, the medicine is obviously affecting her and she suspects something is seriously wrong, but she cannot figure out what. The baby is definitely ill, with what, I’m not quite sure of yet.”</p><p>“Keep me updated on that, will you? I’m going to get a kick outta that.”</p><p>“Of course,” Alejandra concurs.</p><p>“Oh and one more thing, please relieve my conscious by confirming to me that you aren’t fucking that gilipollas.”</p><p>Alejandra should’ve known her uncle would discover her relationship with James sooner rather than later. He had eyes <em>everywhere</em> and there was absolutely <em>nothing </em>that slipped past his peripheral vision unseen or unacknowledged.</p><p>Alejandra sighs and rolls her eyes.</p><p>“Tío, he’s not an asshole, quite the opposite actually.”</p><p>“I don’t care, you can fuck him, but don’t you be foolish and get caught up. You’re smarter than that. Use him for what you need and be done with it. Sí?”</p><p>“Sí,” Alejandra sighs, running a hand through her curls. “…Sí.”</p><p>“Good, I’ll be contacting you again in the next few weeks for another update.”</p><p>“Okay. Adiós tío.”</p><p>“Adiós sobrina.”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Pepper comes to, unsure of how long she’d been out for, but she awakens in her bed, tucked away underneath her comforter with her evening attire still on.</p><p>Her eyes barely adjust to the darkness as she sits up, throwing the blankets off her frame and moving to stand.</p><p>Her legs are wobbly and weak; she stumbles a bit, using the nightstand nearby to lean on to steady herself. When she finally makes it the bathroom in one piece, she cuts on the light and immediately goes to wash her face and remove her makeup from the day. When she finishes, she changes out of her clothes and into a silky nightgown.</p><p>She checks the time and sees it’s after nine, which meant that she’d been asleep for three whole hours. Pepper’s mind couldn’t even conceptualize how things had escalated like that, how in one moment, she felt somewhat fine and in the next moment, she was fainting.</p><p>She remembers James being there, catching her before she hit the floor, everything after that was a complete blur.</p><p>“...I ruined dinner night.”</p><p>James glances up at her in genuine surprise from the love seat he occupies in the living room. He still had on his evening attire from earlier. She wobbles across the room and settles beside him, with his help of course.</p><p>“You didn’t ruin anything, though you did scare me half to death.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Pepper apologizes, feeling the weight of guilt settle upon her for being the reason for upsetting him. “I didn’t mean to upset you like that. These pregnancy hormones are the worst. I’ve never experienced this before, not even with Morgan. I know every pregnancy is different but… it just doesn’t feel normal sometimes…”</p><p>“Alejandra says you’re in good health and suspects that all of this could be a result of stress. A lot has taken place in a matter of months, so much has changed… I know it’s taken a toll on you, especially given the fact that no new evidence has been recovered regarding the case; their bodies still haven’t been recovered. It’s a lot to deal with on top of being pregnant. I know it hasn’t been easy…”</p><p>“…It hasn’t…” Pepper concedes, running an idle hand over her belly as she swallows the lump forming in her throat. “…Every day I’ve waken, I think it’s a dream and that I’ll have them back, and every single time, I’m reminded that they’re gone, that they were taken from me in the most abrupt way. I hate it James… I hate it so much...”</p><p>Tears spring to her eyes and she allows James to pull her in, to hold her and provide her with the comfort she needed in that moment.</p><p>“Sometimes, I don’t know how I will be able to go on without them.” She sobs.</p><p>“I know it seems like that sometimes, it’ll be a feeling that will never completely go away, but life <em>will</em> get better, even if it doesn’t seem like it now, it will. I know it.”</p><p>“How can you have so much faith, James? I’ll never understand it.”</p><p>“It’s the only thing that keeps me going, that keeps me from completely losing it.”</p><p>“…I’m not as strong as you…”</p><p>“That’s a lie if I’ve heard one. You’re stronger than you’ve ever given yourself credit for. It’s one of the plentiful reasons Tony had fallen for you in the first place. He told me those words verbatim and he was right.”</p><p>Pepper sniffles and gazes up at James, who reaches a hand out to brush away the tears that managed to escape.</p><p>“…Thank you James.”</p><p>“No need to thank me, I’m only doing what’s right, what Tony would’ve wanted.”</p><p>Pepper smiles tearfully.</p><p>“You really are everything he said you were and more.” She then rests her head on his shoulder and sighs. “No one else has been there for me like you have and I will always be grateful of you for that.”</p><p>Just then, Pepper feels a strange movement within her belly, evoking a surprised gasp from her in response.</p><p>“What? What’s wrong?” James asks, clearly alarmed.</p><p>“It’s the baby James, the baby’s kicking!” Immediately, she places her hand on the side of her belly and within seconds, it occurs yet again. She glances up at James, reaching for one of his hands and placing it on the area of her belly that was most active with movement. “Feel it James.”</p><p>It’s silent for a few passing moments and, much like before, a swift thump reverberates against Pepper’s belly, evoking a wide smile from James in response.</p><p>“Wow…” He breathes, feeling it yet again, utterly amazed at the feeling of human life moving around inside Pepper’s belly, Tony’s unborn child flailing around in there. It was surreal, yet quite beautiful and breathtaking to witness. “This kid’s gonna give David Beckham a run for his money. They’ve got quite a set of feet on them.”</p><p>Pepper burst into laughter at his remark, throwing her head back and smiling from ear to ear.</p><p>“I love you James, you know that?”</p><p>“No, but I do now.” James chuckles, enjoying the way Pepper’s spirits seem to lift in a matter of seconds despite everything.</p><p>“I do,” Pepper giggles. “I really do.”</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. 15. in flames</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“Keep your confessions<br/>Cause I’m no saint<br/>We’re playing with fire<br/>But I like this game<br/>And I know your devils<br/>I know them by name<br/>When you look my way<br/>Oh I’m not afraid<br/>With your kiss on my skin<br/>And this mess that we’re in<br/>In flames<br/>We’re going down<br/>In flames”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“...What’s wrong with me?” Morgan whimpers out, leaning away from kneeling over the toilet and into the awaiting arms of her father as he releases her hair that had been held back as she practically vomited her brains out. “Something’s wrong, I can tell.”</p><p>And Morgan feared the worst, perhaps she was terminally ill with something that was causing her to vomit at an alarming rate. She would’ve naturally assumed it was the nature of their circumstances that was triggering her, making her utterly exhausted with dizzy spells and oftentimes feeling like she’d been hit over the head with a boulder. However, she was beginning to suspect that there was more to it, that her body was undergoing some type of change, a shift was taking place within her that she could not explain or make sense of. All she knew was that she didn’t like it and she didn’t care for the way it was making her feel on a regular basis — whatever it was.</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with you,” her father replies and it comes across as if he’d been trying to convince himself of that moreso than her. “You might just be dehydrated or this may be a singular side effect to all of those intense migraines you’ve said that you’ve been having.”</p><p>“You don’t think it might be more serious than that?”</p><p>“No. Do you?”</p><p>“Yes,” she concedes. “What if they laced something poisonous with the water and bread they give us?”</p><p>“I’ve consumed it just as much as you have and I’m not vomiting every two seconds so it can’t be that.”</p><p>“I don’t know I just… something just feels off.”</p><p>“We’ll get to the bottom of it eventually.”</p><p>“I hope so,” she replies, although her tone of voice showcases very little conviction in her words.</p><p>“...How do you feel now?” Tony inquiries after a few moments of silence.</p><p>“Fine I guess, my stomach feels a bit queasy though.”</p><p>“Want me to rub it for you?”</p><p>A tired smile graces her face as she nods with an eagerness she did not truly feel inside as she moves to get into position.</p><p>Morgan wastes no time sprawling her body across his lap, to which he chuckles in response to her eagerness and it’s nice to see, because these days, a smile from him was few and far between, understandably so.</p><p>“Take care of me daddy, like you did back when I was a little girl.”</p><p>“You still <em>are</em> a little girl.” Tony replies, leaning his back against the wall behind him as he begins to rub the palm of his hand against her tummy that had a subtle bulge to it that was just barely noticeable to the naked, untrained eye.</p><p>“I don’t feel like it anymore,” she replies in a soft and saddened tone of voice. “It’s funny because I used to resent that feeling — a lot— but I long to have it back now. It wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be...”</p><p>Silence falls upon them yet again and Morgan lets out a soft sigh, briefly closing her eyes as her father rubs her tummy in small circles and she’s already feeling the tension in her muscles relaxing a bit and the ache in the pit of her stomach waning with each passing second, minute, hour — she never really knew as far as time was concerned.</p><p>“…Can you tell me another one of your stories?” Morgan asks, eyes still closed shut, breaking the tension-filled silence between them.</p><p>“I’m not in the mood.” Tony replies curtly. </p><p>“Please, I love your stories.”</p><p>“I said no.”</p><p>Morgan pouts at her father’s moodiness, but doesn’t continue to press the issue, if only because she did not possess the energy to go back and forth.</p><p>A long, pregnant silence ensues before she speaks again. This time, she opens her eyes to find her father’s head leaning back with his eyes closed. She would’ve thought he was asleep had it not been for the fact that he never ceased his movements in assuaging the aches and pains in her tummy with the soothing strokes from the palm of his hands.</p><p>“…Dad?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“I think your fingers would help with the aches and pains, along your tongue, too.”</p><p>“Huh?” Her father questions, peeking an eye open up at her, the innuendo clearly going completely over his head.</p><p>“You know, between my legs and stuff, I think it would help.”</p><p>He groans, visible annoyance written on his face as he opens his eyes and turns to look at her.</p><p>“Is that all you think about now? You don’t seem to have a thought process outside of sex.”</p><p>“Like father like daughter,” she smirks and he glares at her in response. “I’m kidding… <em>partially</em>, but seriously, I think it could help.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Because you’ve become addicted to sex, it’s become a security blanket for you, a weakness, and you’re far too young to have a crippling vice like that.”</p><p>“I’m only ‘addicted’ to sex when it’s with <em>you</em> and you’re really going to act like you weren’t the exact same way when you were my age — worse even? I can’t help it. It’s obviously in my blood.”</p><p>Tony growls at her and Morgan almost expects him to push her away, but he doesn’t.</p><p>“This is why I don’t tell you anything anymore. You love throwing that shit in my face to justify your bullshit. It’s not as cute or funny as you may think it is, quite the opposite actually.”</p><p>“I wasn’t throwing anything in your face. I was reminding you of how alike we are in ways neither of us could’ve imagined.” She giggles.</p><p>“Still not funny,” Tony grumbles.</p><p>“Come on,” she gently nudges her knee into his stomach. “Stop being such a mean old grouch. It was a joke. I was trying to lighten the mood here.”</p><p>Tony sighs, looking away from her and Morgan’s left feeling a bit chagrined by his disdainful reaction. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence for her at all, those common instances where her father’s mood would change in the blink of an eye, switching from a loving, comforting father to a spiteful and malicious one, spewing such vitriol with his nasty words, it would bring her to tears on some occasions, other times, it made her uncharacteristically bitter and spiteful towards him, purely triggered by the hurt his snide remarks caused her.</p><p>Morgan was growing used to her father’s odd mood swings and tried not to react or allow it to get to her as much as it did, however it’d proven time and time again to be a difficult task to master, especially when these mood changes occurred during the most unexpected times.</p><p>Her father resumes rubbing circles on her tummy with the palm of his hand, so she closes her eyes again, but quickly startles when she feels the pads of his fingers brush her labia, prompting her to open her eyes again to find him gazing at her with a peculiar glint in them that ignited something intensely lustful within her.</p><p>He doesn’t say anything, no, he lets his fingers do most of the talking — two of them in particular brush against her outer folds in a tantalizing manner, her lips, soft and already slick from her growing arousal twitched in response to the attention it was receiving.</p><p>“...Dad…” she whimpers out, clasping a hand atop of her father’s that rested on her tummy, ceasing its movements completely.</p><p>Morgan grips at his hand, already beginning to tremble as she watches her father lean down, opening her lips and separating the soft, sensitive flesh with his tongue.</p><p>Morgan lets out a long moan in response to his ministrations; the previous feelings of resentment, hurt and bitterness washes away within a matter of seconds. This was also one of the main ways her father would show her how sorry he was, using the stroke of his cock or tongue to convey much more than he ever cared to articulate with words. After spending so much time together, practically going insane in such a claustrophobic-inducing confined space talking endlessly, Morgan had quickly come to the conclusion that sometimes, words truly weren’t enough to express how one truly felt.</p><p>And she accepts his nonverbal pleas for her forgiveness every single time, no matter how angry he oftentimes made her, no matter how many times he’d sliced her heart in two just by his words alone, because perhaps, she <em>is</em> addicted to her father’s touch, maybe, just maybe; she’d become addicted to <em>him</em> and all the remarkable things he could make her feel that made her heart feel as if it would explode out of her body. It was exhilarating and she couldn’t get enough of it.</p><p>She begins to squirm around a bit in his lap in an awkward attempt at getting her father to taste as much of her as possible, she spreads her thighs apart as far as her position allowed, her hand falling into the mess of brown hair mixed with hints of gray, thrusting herself into her father’s awaiting mouth.</p><p>He allows her to hold his head in place as she fucks his face, most likely out of guilt for the way he’d acted, lust of course, and also her father’s subconscious need to be sexually dominated.</p><p>It was one of her father’s kinks that she’d only recently discovered; an affinity he had for being utterly mastered and controlled. He never stated it verbatim of course, but she’d figured it out during the rare occasions she took the reins from him and did as she pleased. The way in which her father would orgasm would never cease to amaze her; it was always so powerful, so beautiful, but rather swift in general compared to any other time. He would always be left in such ruins by the time she was finished with him. Morgan never confronted him about it, only filed it away in her mental archive for later reference.</p><p>When she cums, her father licks her clean, every last drop she had to offer, with an eagerness that reminds her of how a dog would lap up their drinking water from their bowl after a long day of wrecking havoc at the local community park. It makes her giggle and moan at the sight and the feeling of his tongue swiftly circling her clit.</p><p>“Mmm… daddy that feels good.” She breathes out, now running her fingers through his thick locks of hair, idly tugging at a few strands, feeling his tongue flick against her clit one last time before leaving wet kisses to her labia covered by her bushy pubic hair that her father hadn’t seemed to mind at all like she thought he would. Instead, he moves to inhale her scent before nuzzling the bridge of nose against her soft curls affectionately.</p><p>He begins to trail those same wet kisses up her tummy, causing her to giggle, feeling the scratchiness of his beard brush against her naked skin, before her giggles turn to moans again when he suckles on her left nipple until it becomes erect and repeats the action to the right one before he moves away to gaze down at her.</p><p>She smiles at him.</p><p>“I would kiss you, but I might have puke breath and that’s gross.”</p><p>Tony rolls his eyes and laughs, shaking his head and moving away.</p><p>“Way to ruin a moment.”</p><p>“What?” She giggles. “I’m being honest.”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>The unbridled vomiting continues, the throbbing migraines continue, and the euphoric pleasure-induced sex continues.</p><p>It often felt like, for a long while, they were the only two people on earth, just her and her father, no one else.</p><p>They were left alone for quite some time, for how long, Morgan cannot be 100% sure, but she knows it felt like eternity. It’s a wondrous break from the hell they’d been subjected to thus far and she savors every moment of peace she’s able to obtain in such horrid circumstances because she knows that eventually, they will return, and it will be even worse than before.</p><p>There’s not much to do in such a confined space other than sleep, argue, fuck, fret, talk and repeat. Morgan slept a lot; she had begun to feel such exhaustion, though she attributed it to all of the vigorous sex she’d engaged in with her father as of late.</p><p>Morgan had also argued with her father more often than she would’ve liked, mostly out of anger and frustration, but it almost always ended in rough sex that allotted them both the opportunity to take their pent up rage and aggravation out on one another in a way that was sexually satisfying and liberating, or as liberating as one could be while being held captive and being beaten within an inch of their lives.</p><p>Still though, the sex provided as a major stress reliever and it was good, so <em>compellingly</em> good. Morgan no longer cared if what she was indulging in was right or wrong, she conceded to the fact that they were never getting out of this hellhole, that she was going to spend her last days on earth here, and she figured she might as well perish with a bang and doing what makes her happy, and if that happened to be riding her father’s cock until breath left her lungs for perpetuity, then so be it.</p><p>“Daddy…” she whines out while positioned on all fours as her father’s tongue finds itself between her cheeks as her eats out from the back, his beard grazing against sensitive skin as her body rocks a bit from his movements as he holds her in place, forcing her to grip the tattered mattress beneath her to steady herself.</p><p>Her father growls, gripping her ass and spreading her cheeks apart and dragging his tongue across her twitching hole, swirling his tongue around the ring and dragging his tongue down further to lap away the fluid that began to secrete from her vagina stemming from her arousal, prompting her to push back against her father’s tongue.</p><p>The bridge of his nose nuzzles between her wet folds, causing her to tremble from her father’s ministrations, barely able to hold herself up any longer as her knees began to shake.</p><p>“Daddy, please,” she whimpers out, glancing over her shoulder. “Fuck me now, I-I can’t take it anymore…”</p><p>Morgan can just barely make out the erection that swings between her father’s legs, leaking profusely, and despite her pleas; it doesn’t cease the passionate suckles and repetitive licks to her clit and the soft pink lips that encased the sensitive flesh, which steadily brought her over the edge, causing her to collapse under her own weight.</p><p>Her father spares her very little mercy as he wastes no time rolling her onto her back before she could properly catch her breath, nudging her thighs apart and settling between them, hovering over her as he slides in with ease and groaning deeply as he does so, leaning down and capturing her lips in a salacious kiss as he begins to rock against her.</p><p>Morgan moans in the kiss, her father’s tongue tangling with her own, his cock filling her up to the hilt and he’s fucking her in a way that brings tears to her eyes and she doesn’t know why.</p><p>The sounds from their lovemaking is obscene as it always is, of their naked flesh coming together and pulling apart, of her father’s balls slapping against her perineum, their skin slick with perspiration as they practically glide against each other in an erotic manner.</p><p>Morgan hadn’t lasted long at all, she cums just from a few harsh strokes of her father’s cock as he pants above her, clearly chasing his own pleasure.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” he groans out, filling her up with his sticky gooeyness.</p><p>When he pulls away to look at her, he wipes away her tears that managed to escape and kisses her breath away.</p><p>Morgan wraps her arms around her father, rolling her hips up into his, feeling his cock spazzing against her vaginal walls, causing a shiver to ripple through her spine in magnificent sparks of pleasure.</p><p>Morgan’s limbs feel like spaghetti, her eyes flutter shut when she feels her father’s teeth graze her neck, the sparse hairs covering his groin brushing against the soft curls that surround her cunt as his thrusts gradually slow.</p><p>Her father’s hands are in her hair, tangling with the long, matted strands and she begins to doze off, drowsiness hitting her almost immediately.</p><p>Tony eventually rests his head on her chest, not even bothering to withdraw himself from inside her, which Morgan doesn’t mind much at all. It made her feel close to her father; safe, protected, loved. She reveled in the feeling and truly didn’t want to let it go.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“…What?”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“Dad? You’re beginning to creep me out. What’re you staring at?”</p><p>“You’re stomach,” her father finally answers with an uneasy look on his face. “It looks…”</p><p>“What? What’s wrong with it?” Morgan asks, genuinely perplexed by her father’s demeanor.</p><p>“…Pregnant,” he breathes out, a startled glint in her father’s eyes as he stares up at her, seemingly coming to terms with the sudden realization. “You look pregnant...”</p><p>“No I don’t!” She replies, immediately on the defense. “And I’m not fat either, if that’s what you’re implying.”</p><p>“Look at yourself Morgan — your stomach, the way it sticks out now! You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” Tony replies with a disbelieving shake of his head. “It explains the vomiting, the headaches and the weight gain in your abdominal area. All this time I kept trying to figure out what it was about you that changed. It all makes sense now and I can’t believe I never considered this a possibility before now…”</p><p>“But… but that’s impossible.”</p><p>“If you’ve ever taken a class on sex education and reproduction, which I’m almost certain that you have, you’d know that the strong possibility of you being pregnant is nowhere near ‘impossible.’” He sneers.</p><p>Morgan gulps, pushing herself off the wall she was leaning against to get a good look at herself. Of course she’d taken notice to the physical changes her body had undergone, the slight swelling of her middle and the heaviness of her breasts as they appeared to have gotten bigger than she ever remembered them to be.</p><p>But of course she never suspected it was due to pregnancy. But then again, she <em>did </em>exhibit all of the telltale signs. The drowsiness, the vomiting, the migraines — a replica of the pregnancy symptoms her mother had often told her she experienced while pregnant.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, because she doesn’t know what else to say in response to the anguished look on her father’s face that she could not help but feel utterly responsible for. “I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve—”</p><p>“Don’t you <em>dare</em>,” her father’s voice booms across the room in a thunderous, intimidating way, startling Morgan into complete silence. “Don’t you <em>fucking</em> dare lay the sole blame of this on your shoulders in attempt to spare my feelings or to protect me. Don’t you dare shrink yourself for me when I’m the one that got us into this shit to begin with and the one who couldn’t maintain any sense of self-restraint. You need to stop trying to throw yourself on a grenade for me. It’s not worth it and I’ll end up resenting you for doing it.”</p><p>Morgan glares at her father from where she stood from across the small room.</p><p>“I’m not a child and I’m sick of you treating me like I need to be infantilized all the time, as if I don’t know any better.”</p><p>“Morgan—”</p><p>“You’re always undermining my ability to think for myself. I’m not as naïve or dunce as you think I am. How do you think I was able to keep my love life from you for all this time?”</p><p>That last part was meant to be a dig, an obvious swipe at her father’s ego, and she didn’t care if it made her look petty and childish as a result. Her emotions were running at an all-time high, her heart pounding against her chest as the words that’d been pent up for quite some time came spilling out before she could stop them.</p><p>“You have no idea how many times I’ve snuck out of the house while you and mom were fast asleep thinking I was too, how many times I snuck and smoked weed while you were down in the lab like you always are, how many times I snuck a boy in my room when you weren’t there, and you, mom, and no one else was the wiser. You know why? Because you didn’t want to see it, you didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that I was no longer your little princess anymore. I remember overhearing mom warn you about the changes I was going through, how I was growing up, and she suspected I was involving myself in ‘unseemly’ activities — which I was at the time — but you didn’t believe her and accused her of over exaggerating, how I was just a little girl and there was no way in hell any daughter of yours could be anything less than perfect.” Morgan sneers. “Boy were you wrong.”</p><p>Her father looks furious, enraged and if looks could kill, she knows she would perish almost immediately just from the power of his intense gaze upon her alone.</p><p>But it’s what he says next that truly throws her for a loop.</p><p>“You know, it’s unfortunate none of that superior intellect of yours could save you from being turned into a practical sex slave, everybody’s whore that can be picked up and played with and discarded with ease. Can you explain to me how you couldn’t con your way out of this the way you’ve been able to con me for all this time?”</p><p>There was a quote that immediately came to mind in that moment that Morgan could recall reading in her honor’s English class from a book she could not remember the title of, but it said something along the lines of those whom you love the most can hurt you the deepest. Morgan had not fully comprehended the meaning behind those words at the time, but she did now.</p><p>The loathsome words that flew from her father’s mouth were like sharp daggers to the heart, slicing through her skin and rippling through her, chipping away of what was left of her befouled soul.</p><p>And it was only after the words left his mouth that she could see her father realize the life they’d taken on and the effect they had on her, just judging by the immediate look of utter and complete sorrow that marries his countenance as he gazes at her from across the room.</p><p>“Morgan—”</p><p>He tries, but it’s too late, the damage was done and the seed had already been planted, and no matter what he said or did, he would never be able to take back what he said and she would never be able to forget them.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>The silence and distance that had settled upon Tony and Morgan had been a rather unsettling one.</p><p>Morgan had given her father the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, and she refused to touch him and refused to let him touch her.</p><p>It clearly aggravated him that she did not answer him when he spoke, did not respond to his touch in a way that she usually did, and overall, did not acknowledge his mere presence. She ignored her father and he despised it.</p><p>Morgan knew the art of ignoring her father would get to him more than anything else because she can remember stories he would tell her about how neglectful her grandfather had been towards her father during his upbringing and how it fostered a lot of resentment and insecurities of unworthiness on her father’s behalf. He’d confided in her that he would never be that way with her, how he would shower her with love and attention, and provide her with the emotional support system her grandfather had never given him.</p><p>It was cruel to use her father’s own admitted vulnerabilities against him, but Morgan was angry with him for the hurtful things he’d said to her, and as a result, she’d been feeling quite spiteful, hungry with the desire to strike back and hit ‘em where it hurts, like he’d done so effortlessly with her.</p><p>And it wasn’t long before he was apologizing again, profusely, for what he said, for the way he acted, for calling her a whore, but she did not accept his apology like she knew he’d been expecting her to.</p><p>And so, he’d left her alone for a while, gave her the space he thought she needed that would encourage her to come back around. However, when she never did, that is when she’d been introduced to a side of her father she’d never seen before.</p><p>Morgan wasn’t sure if it’d truly been her father or yet another manifestation of the pent up anger and frustration of their captivity, maybe it’d been a combination of both. Either way, Morgan believed that she’d unintentionally pushed her father to some sort of psychotic break.</p><p>When the begging no longer worked, when she no longer allowed him access to her body, when she practically treated him as if he did not exist in her world, she figures it’s what inevitably triggers him into an emotional tailspin.</p><p>Morgan didn’t remember falling asleep, but she did remember awaking to the sounds of heavy pants reverberating from above her, directly into her ear, and at first, she believes it to be a dream; however it was the distinct pressure she immediately felt upon waking, so heavy she could barely move, she’d been turned on her belly and pinned to the tattered mattress as a result.</p><p>As she comes to, immediately, she recognizes that feeling all too well and when she goes to move, a growl resounds from behind her, keeping her wrists bound and restrained.</p><p>“Dad…” she whimpers out when she feels that familiar warmth of thick gooeyness fill her insides, indicating his completion as he withdraws from her.</p><p>Morgan was not sure how long he’d been on top of her, having his way with her unconscious form, but it was obviously long enough for him to have orgasm. She’d only awakened towards the end of the assault.</p><p>Morgan barely has time to fully register what has happened to her before she could feel strong hands turn her onto her back and that’s when she sees him; with that enraged, unhinged glint in his eyes. She almost didn’t recognize her father, because that look in his eyes was something she’d never seen before and it frightened her.</p><p>For the first time in her life, in all of her fifteen years on earth, she was frightened of her father, fearful of whether he would physically harm her or not, if he’d kill her, if he’d finally gotten fed up with her, of their circumstances, and would turn all of that unhinged rage onto her, promptly stealing breath from her lungs.</p><p>And as barbarous as it sounded, she’d much rather leave this earth at the hands of her father than anybody else. At least it would be quick and easy with him rather than long and drawn out, which was what she knew their captors would prefer.</p><p>As Morgan lets out a chocked gasp as her father’s right hand wrapped around her throat, pinning her down to the mattress again, forcefully spreading her legs apart to accommodate him in between them before he sinks into her again, she recalls him telling her once that he preferred death to be swift and easy — like a singular blow to his chest that could stop his heart — killing him instantly. Or a gunshot to the head.</p><p>It was during one of her father’s darker moments after a vigorous session of passionate lovemaking where she had him open in ways he normally wasn’t. During those rare occasions, Morgan was able to take a peek into the kind of thoughts that floated around in that genius brain that was her father’s and it wasn’t pretty.</p><p>The kind of thoughts that occupied her father’s mind were sinister, menacing and bleak. They were a mirror of her own, though her father wasn’t aware of that fact. She understood why he’d been reluctant on opening up to her and allowing her to see the darkest corners of his mind, because truthfully, it was overwhelming, but undoubtedly <em>raw, </em>which she liked because it made her feel even closer to her father as a result and she yearned to feel closer to him, even more so than she already was.</p><p>“Dad!—” she gasped out as the fingers wrapped around her throat closed in tighter, nearly obstructing her airways as tears gathered at the corner of her eyes from the strength behind his grasp and the intensity of his gaze upon her as he rocked his hips against hers, thrusting his rigid flush in and out of her vigorously. “Daddy, <em>please</em>—”</p><p>Morgan wasn’t exactly sure what she was begging him to do, whether to fuck her <em>harder</em> or for him to finish her off, like a part of her was expecting him to, like a part of her <em>willed</em> him to.</p><p>However, he could not do to her what her lips could not articulate to him, despite the harsh thrusts of his cock impaling her every few seconds with the wet fleshy obscene sounds that followed thereafter, along with the crazed look in his eyes and the trembling whimpers that spilled from his lips that indicated to her that he was achingly close, her father’s arousal growing to exponential rates at the sight of her pliable naked form beneath his, squirming every so often in a weak attempt at freeing herself from his restraints, from his unmistakable rage, and his unadulterated lust.</p><p>Morgan’s sight of her father floating above her begins to blur as her need for oxygen becomes crucial as vertigo began to set in and visions of two seized her eyesight completely. Morgan’s nails dug into her father’s hairy arms, breaking skin and drawing blood, though she knew he could care less in that moment in time, the mild pain only added to the adrenaline rush he was receiving by pinning her down against the single tattered mattress in a chokehold, taking from her what she’d withheld from him for far longer than her father’s sanity could handle.</p><p>He wasn’t in his right frame of mind, she could immediately tell by the animalistic glint in his bloodshot eyes as they gazed at her with such contempt. It wasn’t her father, it was something <em>else</em>, a manifestation of everything that’d been bottled up inside him for a long while now that a rational discussion would never be able to platicate.</p><p>Morgan began to feel pressure in her head and eyes the longer she went without oxygen, her heart pounds against her chest like hammer against cloth, and her father’s heavy erection plunged so deeply within her that it was almost painful.</p><p>She figured that this was it, this was going to be the end of her story — a sad, pathetic story it was — she would meet her demise by being violently fucked by her father while he took her breath away — literally and figuratively.</p><p>It hadn’t been lost on Morgan the cruel irony of her meeting her inevitable demise by the hands of the same man that helped bring her into this world who now had the ultimate power to take her out of it and a large part of her <em>longed</em> for it, if only because she’d finally be free and at peace. That’s all she wanted at this point and she was so <em>achingly</em> close to getting just that.</p><p>Morgan could almost feel herself slipping away and her soul detaching from its physical form as her father let out a thunderous cry as he came inside her yet again, soaking her vaginal walls with his milky white fluids. So much of it oozed from within her and trickled down to stain the mattress beneath their bodies.</p><p>When he finally released the vice grip he had on her throat, she lets out a loud gasp for air in response, but he keeps thrusting until even more of his semen oozes from his cock buried deep inside her and although he was out of breath, just as much as she was, his lips found hers in a sloppy wet kiss as he rolled his hips into hers, groaning into her mouth.</p><p>When all was said and done; he spares her life, where she’d remain in a perpetual state of unrest, where they would remain each other’s company in utter and complete misery, pushing each other closer and closer to the edge of their sanity, and she doesn’t know whether or not she resents him for it.</p><p>When he ends up resting his body atop of hers as he wordlessly drifted off to sleep, Morgan finds that she is somewhere in the middle.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. 16. Lofticries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“Green thunder and the loud rain<br/>Lead our woes asunder<br/>‘Neath the proud veins<br/>Pumping earthly hearts<br/>Wean our joys in plunder<br/>Peel our shining teeth<br/>Bid our hold on happiness<br/>Lofty cries with trembling thighs<br/>Weepy chests with weepy sighs<br/>Weepy skin with trembling thighs<br/>Let it seep through your sockets and ears<br/>Into your precious ruptured skull<br/>Patiently heal you<br/>Patiently unreel you”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey sweethearts! I hope you all have been happy, healthy and safe! Thank you to my lovely readers for the feedback thus far. Very much cherished and appreciated. </p><p>As a forewarning: this chapter is going to be a particularly intense one. It’s safe to say that if you’ve made it this far to expect the unexpected if you haven’t already, but just in case there are those who believe the worst of the worst has already occurred, I’m here to warn you that no, unfortunately, it hasn’t.</p><p>So, before you proceed forward, you’ve been fairly warned of the ugliness ahead!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“The son of a bitch not only knocked up his own daughter, but raped her as well while she slept? Is there a boundary this animal won’t cross?” Angel scoffs, gazing at the three large monitors with contempt. “Truthfully, I will never understand what Isabella ever seen in this depraved Neanderthal.”</p><p>The older man turns away from the screens to face his brother.</p><p>“We need Alejandra to clean up the mess this fuck up made.”</p><p>“You know how much she despises being called on last minute.”</p><p>“She’s your daughter Elijah; she’ll listen to her Papa.”</p><p>“Alejandra has always resented me for the way she thinks I treated her mother. She doesn’t like me very much.”</p><p>“She’s just spoiled, that’s all. Ever since she’s gotten that Ivy League degree, she’s become quite the little snob, hasn’t she?” Angel chuckles to which Elijah joins in. “Perhaps, Miles would be better suited to ring up his dear old cousin? She always did have a soft spot for you.”</p><p>“No objections from me,” Miles replies with a shrug of his shoulders, glancing at the three monitors where the father and daughter duo slumbered on. “The sooner she gets here, the better.”</p><p>“That’s the spirit mijo!” Angel laughs.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“What? I can’t just up and leave Miles. I have a life and a career to maintain.”</p><p>“Abuelo’s orders,” Miles replies stoically over the phone.</p><p>Alejandra huffs out angrily.</p><p>“I have a life outside of this ‘family business.’ I can’t come running at tío’s beck and call every other minute. I attended school for a reason, so I would have a life and career outside of this, but it seems I’m getting pulled into it no matter what.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“I mean, don’t you ever get sick of it? I know you practically grew up in it and have been groomed to take over someday but… don’t you ever desire for something different… away from him?”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter. This is the life I’ve been bred to live and this is the life I chose to be a part of. Anything outside of that is a mere distraction from the main goal.”</p><p>“You sound just like him,” Alejandra sighs in annoyance. “...I just… figured you’d be different, want something else for yourself other than this.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>Alejandra clears her throat.</p><p>“Anyways, can you at least fill me in on what this is about?”</p><p>“The girl is pregnant — or at least we are led to believe she is — we need you to perform an abortion on her if you confirm that she’s pregnant.”</p><p>Alejandra hums in response.</p><p>“And when is my expected arrival?”</p><p>“Tomorrow evening, abuelo already has the private jet ready for you to be on by midnight.”</p><p>“Alright,” Alejandra sighs exasperatedly. “Alright, I’ll be there.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“Miles?”</p><p>“Sí?”</p><p>“I…” Miles could hear the strain in his cousin’s voice as she struggles to find the right words to say. “…Never mind, I’ll just… I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”</p><p>“See you then.”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“…I still don’t hate you… if that’s what you’ve been thinking…”</p><p>“…You should…”</p><p>“Maybe… but I don’t.”</p><p>“…Why?”</p><p>“Because I pushed you to it by behaving the way I knew would ultimately push you over the edge. I did it on purpose, I wanted to hurt you the way you’d hurt me with your words, but it obviously backfired.”</p><p>“...It still doesn’t excuse what I did. Nothing ever will.”</p><p>He can’t even look her in the eye, hasn’t been able to since the incident, he wouldn’t look her in the eye nor would he touch her. Morgan hoped that confessing to him that she did not blame him for what he’d done would somehow lessen the blow, lessen the thick tension that’d been heavy between them since, but her confession obviously did no such thing, unfortunately.</p><p>“…You know, I didn’t want to believe it at first, but I think you were right about this whole pregnant thing. I’m beginning to develop a fupa.”</p><p>Surprisingly, that draws a pleasant reaction from her father, a reluctant smile and even if the response was minimal, it makes something in her chest flutter at the sight. It was pathetic, but at least it was something other than the aggravating silence she’d been subjected to from him thus far.</p><p>“...I never thought I’d end up pregnant at fifteen, especially by my own father. What a plot twist.”</p><p>“…It likely won’t survive…”</p><p>Morgan gazes at her father from where she sat with her back against the wall while her father lied on his back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>“…Huh?”</p><p>“Incest goes against nature, nothing good comes out of it and a baby is no exception. If you make it far enough through the pregnancy to give birth, the baby will likely have health issues, like birth defects, facial deformity, a heart condition, mental disability or early death. It would be best if you miscarried, it would save both of us the heartache we do <em>not </em>need more of.”</p><p>Morgan remains silent; disheartened by her father’s words and the callous way he said them. Of course, she knew her father’s words held much truth in them, it didn’t mean she particularly liked hearing them in such a plain-spoken way.</p><p>Perhaps it had been a part of Morgan that’d been naïve and a little deranged — okay <em>a lot</em> deranged — but Morgan had slowly begun to warm up to the idea of this baby, as crazy as it sounded, maybe it was because it was something that was exclusively hers, something that she’d created with her father, and as sickening as it should’ve been for her, frightening even, her heart fluttered at the thought of carrying something delicate inside her that came from her father, although she would be lying if she said she wasn’t the least bit disconcerted by the fact that she was simultaneously carrying her younger sibling as well as her own child and also her father’s grandchild. It did make her head spin a bit.</p><p>Morgan crawls over to her father, climbing on top of him and straddling his waist. He blinks up at her and she could feel the prickles of hair from his groin brush against her inner thighs. He’s soft and she feels tempted to touch him.</p><p>“...You would really want me to miscarry? Isn’t that process sort of… painful?”</p><p>Morgan didn’t mean to sound as crushed as she felt inside but she couldn’t help it. There was something unnerving about the fact that he would want something like to happen, even if she could understand the logic behind her father’s desire for it.</p><p>“Painful? Yes, but a necessary evil, maybe not even evil, but definitely necessary. It was never meant to be anyway, <em>we </em>were never supposed to be, it was conceived from a dark, desolate place that I’ll always despise and regret.”</p><p>A lump forms in her throat at her father’s words, hard as nails, it was obvious he’d meant them and didn’t feel the need to mince words. She swallows thickly and begins to play with the hairs that cover his chest to distract herself from the stinging in her eyes.</p><p>“…If things were different—”</p><p>“If things were different, I would want it to go back to normal, to the way they were before, before any of this took place.”</p><p>“Things will never go back to normal, especially not between us…”</p><p>Before he could respond, she grasps hold of his softened cock, messaging the flesh between her fingers, which draws out a surprised groan from her father in response.</p><p>“Morgan—”</p><p>“How could things ever go back to normal when I know what my daddy’s cock taste like when it’s shoved halfway down my throat for fucking?”</p><p>He groans in response to her words and she could feel her father grow between her fingers the faster she jerks him off, awakening his senses and igniting his arousal just by her touch.</p><p>“Morgan—” he chokes on a gasp as his cock began to ooze a familiar clear fluid from the tip as he began to firm in her grasp.</p><p>“They can never go back to normal when I know what you’re cum tastes like or the fact that I know you prefer to fuck me when I’m on my period because you love how slippery wet my pussy feels when it’s wrapped around your cock.”</p><p>A warm, fuzzy feeling bursts within her chest when she watches her father’s hazel eyes darken with lust, eyebrows furrowed and teeth grit together as his eyelids fluttered open and shut, an audible cry emerging from his lips as he cums, squirting his syrupy fluids across her belly and chest. Morgan wastes no time leaning down and licking him clean, tongue lapping down the length of his cock, suckling at the tip until more drizzles from her handiwork.</p><p>She pulls off with an audible <em>pop</em>, now glancing down at her torso, wet with her father’s semen, prompting her to drag a finger across her stomach, coating her index finger with his fluid. She slips a finger in her mouth, licking his cum off of it, watching the way her father observed her every move.</p><p>Morgan repeats the action until most of his cum that splattered across her torso was eventually licked clean. Morgan had swiped more cum that oozed from the tip of her father’s cock that was slowly roused to life, yet again, and proceeded to brush her fingers across her labia in a tantalizing manner, smearing his cum across her folds in a way that has her father’s cock twitching in response.</p><p>When she slips those fingers that were covered in his cum between her wet folds, she moans, head tilting back and her eyes fluttering closed. Morgan feels those familiar, masculine hands upon her, prompting her eyes to flutter open to lock with his.</p><p>He watches her masturbate with heavy lids, watches the way her fingers were swift and purposeful as they brushed against her clit, gradually bringing her closer and closer to completion before eventually squirting all over her digits as she let out a toe-curling cry of pleasure.</p><p>And her father says nothing, though he doesn’t really have to, his eyes convey more than he probably would ever be willing to say.</p><p>“…Taste it,” she murmurs, breaking the tension-filled silence between them, in a soft and gentle tone as she brings her index and middle finger up to his lips that were coated with her syrupy cum, strings of her fluid dripping from them.</p><p>Morgan doesn’t wait for his response, only proceeds to push two of her fingers inside his mouth, and he doesn’t push her away like she half expects, no, instead, he begins to suckle them and lap his tongue around her fingers until he licked them clean of her nectar.</p><p>“You can’t resist me, daddy.” Morgan taunts, withdrawing her wet digits from his mouth and leaning forward so that their faces were now inches apart. “The more you do, the crazier it’ll make you.”</p><p>Her father’s actions only served to prove her words to be true when he pulled her down for an impassioned kiss, which she gladly accepts, allowing her father to practically manhandle her, rolling on top of her and pressing his naked body flush against her own.</p><p>He slithers down her frame to latch onto her nipples, suckling them until they’re erect, and then he leans up, grasping hold of his erection with a wrecked look on his face while rubbing the head of his cock between her wet folds, groaning at the feeling.</p><p>His hazel eyes lock with hers as he wordlessly slides inside her, wasting no time thrusting his hips, grunting audibly.</p><p>“…Say you love me,” she moans out, gazing up at her father who’s panting above her, half-hooded eyes filled with utter despair, desire and an intensity that made her unable to look away. “…Say it…”</p><p>“Love you,” he gasps out, finally breaking his silence as his breathing becomes labored. “Love you so much, baby girl.”</p><p>The way in which he utters those words to her cause shivers to rush down her spine, chilling her to the bone. Morgan had never heard her father say he’d loved her in this manner before, with such potency to his words, power and intensity behind them that took her aback. It was enough to bring her to tears because she could <em>feel</em> it, she could truly feel her father’s love for her in that moment and the intense feeling was so overwhelming and all encompassing, it brings her to the edge, inevitably exploding around her father’s cock, writhing underneath him, prompting his own orgasm as he paints her quivering walls with his hot, sticky cum.</p><p>Her father practically collapses atop of her, panting as he rests his head on her abdomen, her hand immediately falling into his hair that felt damp between her fingers. Morgan closes her eyes and focused on getting her breathing under control.</p><p>They don’t speak to one another; the stillness that surrounds them is filled with heavy breathing and a serene silence, a sense of calmness and contentment while in utter torment, as always.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“According to the test results from the blood samples that were collected, she’s definitely pregnant, specifically eight weeks along.” Alejandra confirms as she joins them in the base of the facility. “And the paternity test also confirms that her biological father also biologically fathers the unborn fetus. The DNA match was rather uncanny…”</p><p>“That motherfucker never ceases to disgust me with his depravity.” Angel replies venomously. “Little does he know that what he has done will only bring about greater misfortune for his daughter. What a complete idiot, but what can I expect from a guttersnipe who uses the organ between his legs as a brain.”</p><p>This remark draws out quite a bit of laughter from the two other men in the room and Miles doesn’t miss the subtle grimace that crosses his cousin’s face in response to their taunting laughter.</p><p>“Now that we’ve got the confirmation, you know what you will have to do, don’t you sobrina?”</p><p>“Yes, but I will need some assistance. Nothing too difficult, just help with setting up the equipment I will need and adequately handling the tools I’ll need to complete the abortion successfully.”</p><p>“I can help,” Miles pipes up, a forbidding smirk on his lips. “I’ve always wanted to play doctor, but no one ever wanted to be my patient.”</p><p>“I don’t know…” Alejandra hesitates, clearly disturbed by the look on her cousin’s face, the menacing glint in his eyes.</p><p>“Oh, come on now Alejandra; let Michael here get to experience his fantasies in real time. Besides, it’s not like you have any other choice here.”</p><p>Alejandra glances at Miles again, still hesitant, before sighing heavily in resignation and nodding her head in approval.</p><p>“Alright, but before we do anything, the girl needs to be sedated first—”</p><p>“No problem, the father will be sedated as well. After it wears off, I want him to be fully awake once you begin. I want him to watch.” The older man smirks. “Elijah and Logan will sedate them and transfer the girl onto a cot where she will be fastened to it with barely any wiggle room. Both should be coming to by the time you and Miles are ready.”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“What is that supposed to do?”</p><p>“It’s a numbing medication I injected into her cervix to minimize some of the pain she may feel.” Alejandra replies, setting down the syringe on the nearby tray. “Hand me the dilating rods.”</p><p>Miles obeys, glancing at the naked, unconscious body that lies on a cot, arms and legs bound to the small makeshift bed as her legs are spread apart, propped up on stirrups as Alejandra inserts the dilating rods inside her vaginal canal.</p><p>This is when the young girl had begun to slowly stir, perhaps at the sudden feeling of intrusion, of being opened up in an unnatural way, poked and prodded at like a display in a museum. Her eyes fluttered open with exhaustion, then bewilderment and eventually fear when it took her less than a minute to realize the predicament she was in — which had been less than favorable for her — and that is precisely when the waterworks began, the terror began to set in, the fear and the helplessness as she attempted to desperately wiggle her way out of her restraints, but of course, it was of no use.</p><p>“You need to calm down sweetheart and stay still.”</p><p>“No! It hurts! What’re doing to me? Let me go!”</p><p>“If you keep wiggling around like that, it’s going to hurt a lot worse than it does now.”</p><p>The commotion seems to slowly rouse Tony awake, who was slouched against the wall across the room, thick chains enveloped his ankles and wrists, bounding him completely to his restraints, rendering him immobile.</p><p>“…What the… what the hell?” Tony murmurs, momentarily dazed and confused at the predicament he’s suddenly awakened to, until he hears his daughter’s voice, her cries of agony and her desperate pleas for mercy, which causes his head to snap up in the direction he heard the screams of his daughter echo from. “…What are you… what’re you doing to her?” Tony slurs a bit as he goes to move, only then realizing he was restricted by the wrists and ankles by heavy metal chains, rendering him practically useless and unable to do much of anything but watch as his daughter endures yet another traumatic event in her young life while he helplessly watches on, as per usual.</p><p>Miles smirks at the scene that plays out before him, deriving the utmost pleasure from the pathetic sight before him.</p><p>“Morgan, you need to calm down.” Alejandra turns to face him expectantly. “Assistant Miles, I could use your help right about now.”</p><p>“Sure thing,” Miles chuckles, moving to stand beside the small cot the young girl resides on as she writhes about, desperately trying to free herself of her restraints, tears streaming down her cheeks and unmistakable terror in her hazel brown eyes. Miles reaches a hand out to touch her, which prompts an outburst from Tony.</p><p>“You get you’re fucking filthy hands off her!”</p><p>Miles eyes cut to the pathetic sight and grit his teeth, eyes narrowing in at the man with unadulterated hatred and disgust.</p><p>“Perhaps, if you had of followed your own advice, your daughter wouldn’t be forced to be in this predicament, now would she?”</p><p>When he speaks, Morgan’s head snaps to look at him, a peculiar glint in her glassy eyes that gaze up at him and he smiles, pulling down his mask to reveal his face and she gasps, something like realization flickers across those wide hazel brown eyes and Miles couldn’t help the butterflies in his belly and the pleasant tingle that surges through him in response to her reaction.</p><p>“It’s… it’s you… it’s… but… how? …W-Why?” Morgan sputters in utter and complete disbelief at the sight before her.</p><p>“Surprise, surprise cariño! Long time no see, at least face to face that is.” Miles chuckles, despite the horrified yet equally bewildered look on the young girl’s face. “I certainly wish we were seeing each other again under better circumstances.”</p><p>“Miles what’s… what’s going on? What’s happening? Why’re doing this to me? I… I thought you loved me…”</p><p>“Love?” Miles burst into a fit of derisive laughter that seems to startle her, even Alejandra as she prepares the sterilized tube that would soon be inserted into Morgan in a matter of minutes. “How could I love someone that sees nothing wrong with screwing her own father? A girl that practically had a mental breakdown at the prospect of disposing a child she conceived with her own biological father? One that regarded oral sex with me as the end of the world, but held no issue hoping on her father’s dick like a Pogo stick. How could I possibly love someone as disgusting as that?” Miles shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re just as repulsive as he is, truly your father’s daughter, a filthy slut and an easy one at that.”</p><p>This seems to anger Tony, but Miles did not care, all the old man could ever do was hurl slurs and insults, nothing more.</p><p>The girl sobbed, so hard her body shook a bit, and Miles wasn’t sure if it was solely because of his words, or the slight pain of being penetrated by the tube Alejandra was now inserting into her vagina, right through her cervix and into her uterus.</p><p>“Miles, you’re not helping here.” Alejandra says, clearly annoyed with the way he’d escalated the situation, ultimately doing more harm than good, which was a motto Miles lived by almost religiously.</p><p>“N-no…” Morgan sobbed as Alejandra begins to suction out the eight week old fetus that resided deep inside her womb.</p><p>Miles laughs at the sight, watching the unadulterated agony painted across the young girl’s face as well as her father — his sperm donor — yelling like a banshee, and yet, that was all he could do, all that he would ever be able to do, and that only made the sight even more pathetic than it already was.</p><p>“W-What’s happening to me?” Morgan whimpers, her words slurred as she cranes her neck to see what the tube between her legs was doing.</p><p>“I’m performing an abortion.” Alejandra answers, confirming the young girl’s suspicions as her body shakes as she lets out an ear-piercing cry, eventually crying out for her father, who was unable to do much of anything but comfort her with his voice alone, which didn’t seem to make much of a difference.</p><p>The time seems to stretch on, even though it’d only been a total of ten minutes that had gone by when the procedure reached completion.</p><p>The resistance from Morgan had ceased as well as the seemingly endless waterfall of tears, even Tony had quieted down quite a bit.</p><p>It was obvious to Miles that both were emotionally drained and exhausted by it all; their will to fight had come to a quiet simmer and it was such a beautiful transition to witness.</p><p>The human spirit; once strong in the face of adversity, now shredded into mangled pieces of utterly useless parts.</p><p>An IV was put in Morgan’s arm to feed her pain medication and nutritious fluids to keep her alive and semi-healthy despite the hell her body had been put through in such a short span of time.</p><p>“Once she’s gotten all of the nutrients, hydration and medication from the IV, she should be back to normal — or as normal as can be given her circumstances.”</p><p>Eventually, Tony and Morgan are transferred back into their designated room and Alejandra already has a taxi that awaits her outside the facility that will take her to the private jet Angel assigned to her for her brief stay in Puerto Rico.</p><p>Despite her family’s pleas to stay for just a little while longer, Alejandra already has her mind made up and her eagerness to leave is not at all surprising to Miles or her father and Uncle.</p><p>Miles decides to tag along with her, escorting her off the premises via Angel’s direct orders.</p><p>There is a thick tension in the air as they walk side by side, an unusual heavy silence that lingers between them. Miles won’t speak about it unless she will, which she eventually does, much to his simultaneous relief and utter dread.</p><p>“…I thought you were better than this Miles.”</p><p>Her voice is laced with heavy disappointment, sadness and slight indignation.</p><p>“Don’t start,” Miles warns before she begins some long winded lecture about the life he <em>could</em> be living instead of the one that he was <em>choosing</em> to live. “I’m not in the mood.”</p><p>“Miles… what I saw in there, the way you acted, that wasn’t you. That wasn’t the Miles I grew up with. What have they done to you to have turned you into such a cold-hearted bastard?”</p><p>“Honestly Alejandra, fuck you. You never knew, you never cared to know me, all you’ve ever cared about is yourself. I’m sick of you pretending like you give a solitary fuck about my well-being when we both know that you don’t. You certainly didn’t care when you left me behind to pursue your ‘dreams’ and hardly came back to visit. You’d forgotten all about me in your pursuit of a better life than the one I’m living. If you cared that fucking much you would’ve called or at least came back to see me, but you didn’t and that told me where you’re loyalty ultimately lied and it sure as hell wasn’t with me.”</p><p>Alejandra appeared taken aback by his words that held such an intensity and animosity behind them that genuinely startled her.</p><p>“And you out all people should know what that bastard’s absence did to me, how badly it affected me. I’m sure you remember all those times I confided in you about how I felt, knowing he was out there, living his life while I was stuck here to rot, how much I hated him for it, how I hated myself for not being worthy enough for him to stick around for. You’re the one that was always there to talk me off the ledge and out of taking my own life every time abuelo would force me sleep with his clients. No one else in this family had to be subjected to that and you know why? Because he saw me as sullied by that bastard’s blood that pumped through my veins from the very moment I was born, abuelo viewed part of me as tainted because of <em>him</em>. I had it the worse growing up because of that piece of scum in there. And you expect me to feel bad for that piece of shit that is the reason for half of the bullshit I was subjected to on account of him?” Miles scoffs. “Fuck you Alejandra.”</p><p>Alejandra’s silence speaks volumes, which satisfies Miles because he knows he’s successfully gotten his point across.</p><p>When they finally reach their destination, Alejandra turns to face him, large wet tears glazing those big green eyes of hers and the soft glint in them almost immediately causes a lump to form in his throat.</p><p>“…I love you Miles, I always have and I always will. I know they did things to you and made you do things that you may never forget. I’m sorry you ever questioned my love and loyalty to you, because for the longest time, still this day, you were the only person I could stand about this family, the only one I trusted.” Alejandra takes a deep breath, briefly closing her eyes as a tear escapes and reaches a hand out to gently touch his wrist. “…Someday, I hope you truly heal from the things you no longer speak about and you are able to find a life outside of this, because <em>this</em> is hell on earth and you deserve better, <em>so </em>much better than this and I hope you realize that one day before it’s too late. I really do.”</p><p>Alejandra leans in and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek and with a tearful smile; she was gone, almost as if in a blink of eye, like she’d never been here in the first place. And Miles is left standing there with a dry mouth and glassy eyes, feeling weighed down to the ground and unable to move as he watches her go.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. 17. Faith Consuming Hope</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“Time has been twisting the knife<br/>Take my dreams<br/>Childish and weak at the seams<br/>Please don’t analyze<br/>Please just be there for me<br/>The seeds that are sown<br/>They still control me<br/>There’s a liar in my head<br/>There’s a thief upon my bed<br/>Take my hand<br/>Lead me to some peaceful land<br/>That I cannot find<br/>Inside my head”<em></em></em>
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    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Pepper goes into labor in the dead of night, early November, around four in the morning to be exact.</p><p>She’d been experiencing the contractions weeks beforehand, but they’d grown rather intense in the last few days, which had inevitably resulted in false alarms, but this time around was quite different.</p><p>This particular night, she’d been in a restless state of mind, she felt tense and ill at ease. Perhaps, those reasons alone are why it should’ve come as no surprise when she’d been halfway down the stairs, heading towards the kitchen for a midnight snack when her water had broken, right then and there.</p><p>A clear fluid trickling down her legs and a sharp pain shoot across her belly soon after that had her crying out from shock and from the pain that accompanied the contractions.</p><p>Pepper, as quickly as she possibly could, made her way down the rest of the staircase in search for the house phone, dialing James’ home number with shaky fingers and bated breath.</p><p>“…Hello?” James answers in a hoarse tone of voice.</p><p>“James!” Pepper gasps into the phone, grasping at her aching belly. “James, I’m in labor! My water broke!”</p><p>“I’m on my way,” James answers swiftly. “Stay exactly where you are, Pep.”</p><p>“I’ll try,” Pepper replies, clear distress prevalent in her tone of voice. “The contractions are a nightmare James, worse than they’ve ever been before.”</p><p>“Take a deep breath… breathe, just like how it was in Lamaze classes remember?”</p><p>Pepper takes his advice by inhaling deeply and exhaling, just like what was taught to her, wobbling over to the nearest recliner to properly catch her breath and gather her bearings.</p><p>“That’s it, just like that Pep.”</p><p>James’ soft and encouraging voice is what ultimately gets her through the horrid contractions that felt as if a sharp pain rippled throughout her body, from her swollen belly down to her aching spine.</p><p>James stays on the phone with her until he arrives, which she is beyond grateful for, because she probably would’ve passed out from a panic attack had he not been there to quell her fear and anxiety of the situation.</p><p>A wave of relief immediately overcomes her when she comes face to face with James, who looks a bit disheveled in appearance, though she could not blame him and actually found the sight of him clad in his PJs rather endearing as it was amusing, despite the dire situation.</p><p>“How’re you feeling?” James immediately asks, gently reaching for her arm and helping her up off the recliner.</p><p>“Like the baby’s gonna fall out of my uterus any second.” Pepper grumbles. “I can’t believe this is happening now out of all times. Why couldn’t this happen in the morning or evening?”</p><p>“Baby’s already taking after Tony I see, on no one else’s schedule but their own and have decided they will arrive when they damn well please.”</p><p>Pepper couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at James’ words as he led her out of the home, plucking her coat from the nearby rack and wrapping it around her frame and tossing the duffel bag that had laid situated near the front door in case of an emergency such as this over his shoulder.</p><p>They had planned this all the way down to the nitty gritty details and Pepper had been glad, because it made the situation a lot less stressful than it otherwise would have been had they not been properly prepared.</p><p>James had done most of the planning for this because as she progressed in her pregnancy, her strength had gradually weakened and she found that she did not possess the energy to do much of anything, even so much as getting out of bed had taken so much out of her and that was precisely when James had decided to take the liberty in helping her out (more than he already was) with the preparations for the birth of the baby and she couldn’t have been more thankful for his guidance and assistance throughout all of this because without James, she knew she would’ve driven herself mad with all the minute details that went into all of this.</p><p>“Watch your head,” James cautions as he helps her into the passenger seat of his sedan. “…Feeling okay?”</p><p>“For now,” Pepper replies, still inhaling and exhaling at a steady pace as she gripped her belly, feeling the intense pressure of the baby pressing against her uterus. “But the baby’s coming James, I can feel it.”</p><p>After tossing the duffel bag into the backseat, James rushes over to the driver’s seat, quickly strapping himself in and cutting on the ignition.</p><p>“Alejandra’s already ready for you, so when we get there, they’ll wheel you to the back while I will fill out the necessary paperwork while they prep you.”</p><p>“I want you back there with me James. I can’t do this without you.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” James asks, glancing over at her and back onto the road.</p><p>“Positive.”</p><p>The contractions were kicking back up again when they finally arrived at the hospital, to which Pepper had been quickly wheeled away by a nurse while James stayed behind to fill out the necessary paperwork.</p><p>Pepper was immediately transferred to the maternity unit where she was assigned a ‘birthing’ room and placed on a cot.</p><p>Relief washes over Pepper when she finally spots a familiar face and it was Alejandra, entering into the room, greeting her with those bright green eyes through the mask that covered her face as she went to wash her hands and retrieve elastic gloves from the nearby drawer.</p><p>“How far apart are her contractions?” Alejandra asks one of the nurses.</p><p>“About three to five minutes apart.”</p><p>“It looks like the little one is finally going to make their grand entrance into the world!” Alejandra cheers excitedly. “Let’s get started, shall we?”</p><p>“Wait, wait,” Pepper quickly interjects. “I… I don’t want to start anything until James is here. I need him here with me.”</p><p>“He should be finishing up with the paperwork by now,” Alejandra replies, turning to one of the nurses. “Nurse Jackie, could you go retrieve James for me? It’s urgent.”</p><p>“Yes ma’am,” the young nurse nods before fleeing the room in a hurry.</p><p>“Alright, while she goes to get him, I’m going to take a look at your cervix to check how many centimeters you have dilated. Is that alright with you?”</p><p>Pepper nods, gritting her teeth as she feels yet another sharp contraction overcome her in that moment, evoking a cry of unadulterated pain from her.</p><p>Tears well up in Pepper’s eyes as one of her hands grip the railing of the bed beside her while the other rests against her swollen belly. Alejandra tries her best to soothe her growing weariness and frustration, but it’s of no use, Pepper was already balling like a baby, begging for her to take this baby out of her, by <em>any</em> means necessary.</p><p>“Get it out of me! Please! It hurts!”</p><p>This hadn’t been Pepper’s first go round as far giving birth, she’d gone through this before with Morgan fifteen years ago, though Pepper had almost forgotten the excoriating pain and pressure that accompanies the human body when it’s preparing to give birth to human life.</p><p>For some reason, Pepper couldn’t recall it ever being <em>this</em> painful with Morgan. Perhaps, it was because she had Tony there with her that made the experience a lot less traumatizing and distressing as it otherwise would have been, like now.</p><p>“Your contractions are getting closer and closer together and your cervix has dilated about ten centimeters. You’re ready to give birth to this baby Pepper.”</p><p>“Please, I don’t want it inside me anymore. It hurts too much. Get it out!”</p><p>Just then, Nurse Jackie returns with a wide eyed James and immediately Pepper could feel the tension ease, if just a little bit at the warm coffee brown eyes that locked with hers filled with unadulterated concern as James is immediately at her side, reaching for her hand and brushing a hand through her hair that was now matted from sweat.</p><p>“James!”</p><p>“I’m here, it’s okay, your fine.” James quickly reassures and his voice does wonders in soothing her anxiety in that moment.</p><p>In the end, Pepper is in labor for the next three hours and they’re the most unbearable hours of her life thus far, but when she finally hears the piercing screams that belonged to her child, relief washes over her and it was almost enough to mask the pain and discomfort she’d been in for hours on end.</p><p>“It’s a baby girl!” Alejandra announces over the piercing wails of the baby girl in her arms. “James, would you like to do the honors of cutting the umbilical cord?”</p><p>James turns to Pepper with uncertainty and she nods her approval, squeezing his hand with the small bit of strength she was able to muster up in that moment.</p><p>“Please James; it’s what Tony would’ve wanted… It’s what I want.”</p><p>And Pepper could’ve sworn she’d caught a glimpse of tears well up at the corner of his eyes, clearly impacted by her words, to the point where words had escaped him in that moment as he offered up a solemn nod in response before proceeding forward with cutting the umbilical cord before the wailing baby is taken away to get cleaned up.</p><p>“You did amazing Pep. I knew you would pull through.”</p><p>“Remind me to never get knocked up again.”</p><p>James lets out a hearty laugh at her words, prompting a tired smile from her in response.</p><p>Pepper ends up naming the baby girl Sabrena Antonia Stark and the moment Pepper cradles her in her arms for the very first time, it was only then that she realizes that it was all worth it — all of the heartache, the blood, sweat and tears, the anguish, the emotional distress, all of the physical changes her body had undergone, the hours of painful childbirth, all of it was worth it just to see the small cherubic face staring up at her like an angel.</p><p>It was only then that Pepper is revisited by the same overwhelming emotions she’d experienced with Morgan all those years ago and it hits her like a ton of bricks, causing uncontrollable tears to spring to her eyes and fall from her lashes, unable to take her eyes off the baby girl, the last gift from Tony to her before the accident that still felt like it’d occurred yesterday, but in reality, just nine months prior.</p><p>“What a beautiful baby girl,” James murmurs, gazing down at the baby cradled in her arms. “Just like your mother.”</p><p>Pepper turns to James with a tearful smile and reaches a hand out for his, which he gladly takes and gives it a gentle squeeze.</p><p>“I can never thank you enough for all that you’ve done for me James. You’ve been my guardian angel throughout all of this and I’ll always love you for it.”</p><p>James simply smiles, a genuine spark in his eyes as he brings her wrist up to his mouth to kiss and returns the reassuring squeeze.</p><p>“It’s like you said, it’s what Tones would’ve wanted.”</p><p>Pepper’s eventually transferred over to the recovery unit where she is able to breastfeed her little girl for the very first time.</p><p>“I can’t believe I missed the birth of my grandchild.”</p><p>“Mother, for the umpteenth time, I’m sorry, okay? This was just as much of a surprise for me as it was for you. I wasn’t expecting to give birth <em>this</em> soon.”</p><p>“Well, at least you had James, you weren’t completely alone.”</p><p>“No, James is always there for me, always by my side.” Pepper smiles softly, tearing her gaze away from her daughter. “Speaking of which, have you seen him?”</p><p>“I think he went to go get some coffee. I think I seen him speaking with one of the doctors.”</p><p>“Alejandra,” Pepper chuckles with a playful roll of her eyes. “She has him completely smitten in a way I’ve never seen before. I think it’s really serious between them.”</p><p>“It’s nice that James has found himself a sweetheart. He deserves to experience a life and love of his own.”</p><p>Pepper looks at her mother then, something about the way she’d said those words had bothered her. Sabrena continues to suckle, unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere.</p><p>“What do you mean by that?”</p><p>“I mean, it’s nice that to see that his life isn’t entirely consumed by you. It wouldn’t be fair for him to drop everything in his own life because he has a sense of obligation to Tony to cater to all of your needs because you are his deceased best friend’s wife.”</p><p>And in that moment, Pepper had realized yet again why she’d never been as close to her mother as she had been with her father and why they’d always had quite a strained relationship.</p><p>Her father had always been somewhat of the buffer between them that they both needed in order to prevent the act of ripping each other’s heads off, but then her father had passed, and that buffer had become Tony, despite knowing her mother never truly approved of him as her son-in-law, she tolerated him for the most part and was cordial.</p><p>But now that Tony was gone, there had been no one there to play that role of a mediator between the two.</p><p>“How could you say something like that, especially at a time like this?”</p><p>“Oh, sweetheart, you know I meant no harm—”</p><p>“You never do,” Pepper retorts with an annoyed roll of her eyes. “But that’s what you always end up causing — more harm than good.”</p><p>“Pepper—”</p><p>Just before things are able to escalate (because Pepper knew they would), James returns with Alejandra in tow and Pepper couldn’t have been gladder to see their smiling faces enter into the hospital room, blissfully unaware of the thick tension in the air between the mother and daughter.</p><p>“How’s the new mother feeling?”</p><p>“Better now,” Pepper replies, ignoring her mother’s intense gaze practically burning holes into the side of her face and focuses on her beautiful newborn instead. “Thank you Dr. Bonilla for helping me bring this little angel into the world. I know I wasn’t quite like myself a few hours ago—”</p><p>“The pleasure’s all mine! And don’t be embarrassed! I’ve dealt with much worse than that. I once delivered a baby to a woman that threatened to put a gun to my head if I didn’t get that baby out of her right then and there.”</p><p>Pepper’s eyes widen in shock and Alejandra chuckles at her reaction.</p><p>“Yeah, its gotten <em>that</em> intense before, but the reward in the end is always greater than the risk, so it works itself out.”</p><p>“I suppose so,” Pepper smiles tiredly down at her new addition. “…Sabrena’s the best thing to come out of all of this.”</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Pepper is released two days later, much to her relief, although she’d only spent three days total in the hospital, it was enough to nearly drive her insane.</p><p>The staff was incredible; Alejandra tried to make it as it pleasant as she possibly could for Pepper, sensing her growing weariness of being designated to a hospital bed and she appreciated it, she really did, but she couldn’t have been more grateful when she and her newborn were officially discharged.</p><p>James had been the one that had driven her back home, which she had been thoroughly grateful for, however her mother’s words had still been fresh on her mind and they stuck with her in a way that she found grating to her psyche.</p><p>But that was the thing with her mother that Pepper had always found exasperating. She would say things to her that she knew would get underneath her skin and unfortunately, Pepper had always succumb to it by giving her mother’s words life by overthinking them, analyzing them to death and allowing them to lay dormant in her subconscious far longer than they deserved to be there for.</p><p>It’d been like this with her mother for as long as she could remember. Pepper could recall her mother’s words relayed to her just hours before her wedding day that nearly led to her calling it off. Tony never knew the wreckage and self-doubt her mother’s words about him caused her just hours before their wedding that almost never was.</p><p>It was the day Pepper decided that she wouldn’t allow her mother’s words to hold so much power and control over her; it nearly drove her into making one of the biggest mistakes of her life, which would’ve meant breaking things off with Tony.</p><p>Although Pepper made that promise to herself all those years ago that she wouldn’t allow her mother’s words to get inside her head and dictate her actions like a marionette, it appeared as if old habits certainly died hard. Perhaps, it had to do with such life changing events taking place in a matter of a year, becoming a widow and losing her only child in such a brutal and unexpected way, as well as becoming a new mother. It had definitely taken its toll on her well-being and overall mental health.</p><p>All she really had now was her mother and James; no matter how much of a strained relationship she had with her own mother for most of her life, she was the only parent she had left now. That realization of hers is what more than likely opened her up to being so vulnerable to her mother’s words that often cut like a knife.</p><p>It’s also what led to her declining James’ offer to stay with her and the baby, to look after baby Sabrena, his newborn niece, while she made up for some of the rest she lost out on while cooped up in that uncomfortable hospital bed with all of those noisy machines whirring about.</p><p>The offer was tempting for Pepper, because it was true, she hadn’t been able to get any proper rest while practically held hostage at that hospital and she craved a full night’s sleep after the past couple of days she’s had and the soreness and dull ache that accompanied her body after giving birth.</p><p>But her fear of wearing out her welcome with James trumped her desire for a moment of peace and quiet.</p><p>James had never indicated to her that he’d grown tired of her and all of the emotional labor that she felt he had to deal with for far longer than what most would’ve put up with for a day — much less almost of year of it.</p><p>But Pepper feared that perhaps her mother’s words might’ve held a certain degree of truth, which is why they’d gotten to her the way they did.</p><p>James had a life of his own that he deserved to live, he shouldn’t have to feel burdened with the responsibility of watching over her, even if he was Tony’s best friend and vice versa. It wasn’t fair that he felt obligated to shoulder that type of pressure and responsibility, even if he was doing most of it out of the goodness of his heart, which Pepper knew full well he was, because that was just the kind of man James is and always has been.</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around for a bit?” James asks, for the umpteenth time as they pull into the driveway of her home. “You know it wouldn’t be an issue for me at all.”</p><p>Pepper offers a halfhearted smile and reaches a hand out and places it atop of James’, giving it a light, reassuring squeeze.</p><p>“I know it wouldn’t be, but I’m sure. I have to do this on my own, without always having someone there to rescue me all the time when things get rough or the least bit inconvenient. I need to be a big girl.”</p><p>“What’s so bad about always having somebody there? Honestly, being a lone wolf is not what it’s cracked up to be.”</p><p>Pepper giggles, despite the apprehensiveness she feels inside and shakes her head.</p><p>“I promise I will call if I need you.”</p><p>James sighs.</p><p>“Promise?”</p><p>“I promise,” Pepper quickly reassures. “Don’t worry about me James, I’ll be fine.”</p><p>James purses his lips and offers a reluctant nod. Pepper smiles and leans in to press a chaste kiss to his cheek in an attempt to reassure any lingering doubt he may have had.</p><p>“I’ll see you later?”</p><p>James nods and Pepper exits the car, moving to the backseat to retrieve her napping newborn strapped securely in her car seat.</p><p>“Give her my love, will you?” James says before she leaves, evoking a soft smile from her in return as she nods.</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>James smiles and she offers him a wave as he pulls out of the driveway and out onto the main street, before disappearing down the road.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Pepper had never been happier to finally be back home, in her safe haven, her sanctuary and place of refuge.</p><p>Although the feeling had been rather bittersweet, returning to a large vacant home, which only served as a jarring reminder of her new lot in life; a widow with a newborn baby to look after.</p><p>It was overwhelming to say the least and the quietness oftentimes got to her, more so than the awful cries from her newborn baby all throughout the day and at all hours of the night.</p><p>Pepper didn’t know which one she despised more, the silence that would often make her want to jump off a bridge or the agonizing screams of her daughter that also made her want to stab her eyes out with a fork.</p><p>Sabrena, for the most part, was a relatively quiet baby that napped quite a bit (especially since Pepper now had her on a specific sleeping schedule), but it was during those times when she would scream her little lungs out, for seemingly no reason at all, that drove Pepper near the edge of her sanity, especially when it seemed like there was nothing she could possibly do the remedy the situation other than simply ride it out until her daughter’s lungs grew sore from screaming so much.</p><p>It was during those times where Pepper wished she had Tony by her side to quell his daughter’s uncontrollable wails. Tony had gotten on so well with Morgan when she was a baby, he had that Midas touch that seemed to assuage away the unruly tears of their daughter. Pepper had envied that quality of Tony’s as much as she admired it.</p><p>Pepper figures she could’ve called on James like she promised she would if things had gotten a bit overwhelming, but her paranoia of becoming too much of a burden always outweighed her desire to ask for help, even when she truly needed it for the sake of her own peace of mind.</p><p>“Sabrena, come on now sweetheart, give mommy a break, you’re driving me insane.” Pepper practically whimpers, cradling her wailing one month old, attempting to alleviate her daughter’s maddening cries that seemed unending.</p><p>But the screams and cries never cease and it seems to finally push Pepper to her emotional breaking point, which leads her to her suddenly abandoning her bawling baby in her crib, storming out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her, only amplifying Sabrena’s wails as she quickly descends the staircase and retrieves her car keys from her purse situated on the kitchen counter and flees the scene.</p><p>Pepper didn’t know where exactly she was going, but she’d known she needed to get out of there, away from the heart-wrenching cries of her baby girl, because she knew if she didn’t, it would inevitably result in doing something she knew in her heart of hearts that she would regret and despite her frustrations of the circumstances she found herself in, unable to control, she still loved her baby girl more than anything and she would never forgive herself if she ever did anything to hurt her, regardless of whether it was intentional or not.</p><p>In the end, Pepper ends up in the parking lot of a shopping center, bawling her eyes out, so hard her body nearly shook.</p><p>Pepper had not one clue why she ever believed she was capable of handling all of this on her own, especially after everything she’s been subjected to this past year alone that no nightmare can compare. Everyone had their breaking points and this was hers.</p><p>As much as she wanted to believe she was strong enough to handle this without the aid of anyone else, she knew it would all be a blatant lie and would only lead to the detriment of her child and Sabrena didn’t deserve that. Sabrena deserved the world, her full dedication as her mother, and Pepper would give it to her, no questions asked despite her apprehensiveness at the prospect of her newfound motherhood.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“She’s beautiful Pepper,” James murmurs, cradling the one month old who softly coos in his arms, her small hand wrapping around James’ index finger.</p><p>“Not to mention a handful,” Pepper quips, only half joking as she stirs her tea around in her mug idly. “…Thanks for stopping by on such short notice by the way. I hope I didn’t ruin any of your plans.”</p><p>“Alejandra had to reschedule, so it worked out in the end anyway.” James glances up at her with a sincere smile. “Even if that wasn’t the case, I still would’ve come.”</p><p>Pepper’s heart flutters at his words and a soft smile emerges across her face for the first time since bringing Sabrena home from the hospital.</p><p>“...You know, sometimes I feel you are too good for this world, James. Tony truly struck gold with you.”</p><p>James offers a faint, lopsided smile her way, but something about the expression bothers her. Perhaps, it was the hint of sadness and despair in his eyes as he gazes down at the yawning baby cradled in his arms.</p><p>“…I think about him all the time… I just can’t believe that—”</p><p>“I know,” Pepper answers sorrowfully. “…It still doesn’t feel real. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up one day and this’ll all be one horrible nightmare, but it’s not. It’s worse.” Pepper chuckles wryly.</p><p>“I don’t think it will ever feel completely real.” James replies, glancing up at her with a ghost of a smile. “But eventually, things will get better, the pain will always be there, but it won’t always feel this unbearable.”</p><p>“…You think so?”</p><p>“I know so. Something’s gotta give.”</p><p>A moment of silence passes over them and Pepper gazes at him for a long moment before she speaks again.</p><p>“…Thank you James.”</p><p>James startles at her words, genuinely perplexed by her unexpected choice of words.</p><p>“You have nothing to thank me for—”</p><p>“I have an <em>abundance</em> to thank you for, but most of all, thank you for being you, for being here for me, for putting up with me when I know I haven’t been the easiest one to deal with, and for knowing what to say to lift my spirits when I’m at my lowest and renewing any hope I may have loss when things look rather bleak. You’ll never know how much you remaining by my side throughout all of this has meant to me.”</p><p>James smiles softly, appearing genuinely moved by Pepper’s words, which Pepper had been glad, because she meant every last one.</p><p>“We’re in this together Pep, when I said I would be here with you every step of the way, I meant it.”</p><p>Pepper shivers at the sincerity behind James’ words and she knew then, more than ever, that no matter how many times she felt that she was alone in this, in reality, she wasn’t. She had James and he was more than enough, always had been and always will be.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. 18. suicidal notes from lifeless ghosts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>“Everything you’ve owned, is gone<br/>Everything you know, is wrong<br/>Everyone you’ve loved, has left<br/>Everything you've touched, is dead<br/>Everyone you know, is gone<br/>Everything you’ve touched, gone wrong”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Morgan’s not a little girl anymore, Tony. I know you don’t want to accept that fact, but it’s the truth.”</em>
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  <em>“She’s only fifteen-years old; of course she’s still a little girl.”</em>
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  <em>“Her clothes reeked of alcohol, Tony. And this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. You have an idealized view of your own daughter and because of that, you’ve overlooked a lot of red flags about her behavior. You’re way too soft on her and would let her get away with murder if she was capable.”</em>
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  <em>“And you’re too hard on her.” Tony retorts. “She’s just a kid, she’s going to encounter a few bumps in the road here and there, and it’s our job to be there for her, not to cast judgement upon her and treat her as if she’s the spawn of Satan.”</em>
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  <em>Pepper sighs, threading her fingers through her hair that fell over her shoulders and to the middle of her back.</em>
</p><p><em>“…All I’m trying to say is that she is not five-years old anymore. She’s fifteen-years old and she’s been going through a lot of changes lately, with her behavior and secrecy. We’ve raised her right and have given her the tools to be the best she can be, but at the end of the day, she’s still a teenager and every decision she makes isn’t going to be a good one, as much as neither of us want to admit it, it’s the truth. We have to be realistic here, Tony. I know you have a tendency to project a lot of things onto Morgan</em><em>—</em> <em>”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Project?” Tony interjects, almost defensively. “What’s that supposed to mean?”</em>
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  <em>“I don’t even think you realize that you do it, but you do. You regard Morgan like she’s glass, afraid to apply too much pressure in fear of breaking her.” Pepper pauses, pursing her lips as she seems to struggle to find the right words to say, before she continues. “…I understand you don’t want to be like how Howard was with you, but refusing to properly discipline her and turning the other way as if you can’t see what’s happening right under your nose will do her more harm than good in the long run.”</em>
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  <em>When Tony goes plop down on the bed next to her with an exasperated smile, Pepper offers him an empathetic smile as she places a hand atop of his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.</em>
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  <em>“I know it’s not fun playing the bad guy, but it’s necessary for the healthy development of our daughter. Believe me; she’ll thank you later for it.”</em>
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  <em>“I’ll try,” he replies softly, evoking a wider smile from Pepper in response as she moves to lean into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a sweet kiss to his cheek.</em>
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  <em>“It’s all I can ever ask from you.”</em>
</p><p>Tony awakens with a pang in his chest and stiffness in his joints as he struggles to open his eyes and keep his vision focused, a deep groan reverberating from the back of his throat as he goes to move.</p><p>As the disorientation begins to slowly fade, it is only then that he realizes he was slumped up against the concrete wall behind him, legs beneath him haphazardly spread about. It was excruciatingly uncomfortable and Tony figured it was the reasoning for the cramps he felt in his torso and neck as he moved to sit up, eyes half-hooded. There was no telling how long he’d been in that position for, but certainly long enough to cause severe aching in his muscles as a result.</p><p>However the pain he felt the moment his daughter appeared in his line of his vision paled in comparison to any discomfort he felt prior to that.</p><p>The sight of her brings back memories of the things he’d rather forget. The images of those memories hit him like a ton of bricks, all jumbled up they were, of Morgan being held down against her will as she’s brutally sodomized by their assailants, all the countless arguments they’d gotten into and the nasty words exchanged, when he’d held his daughter down by the throat and raped her out of pent up anger and frustration, of all the times they’ve used their bodies — reckless lovemaking — to distract themselves from their horrendous circumstances, and then she’d fallen pregnant as a result, which incited another disagreement between them.</p><p>Morgan had acted as if her condition had been something to be revered, when in reality, it was a disgrace in his eyes. That baby would serve not only as a reminder, but evidence of all the disgraceful sins they’ve committed together as one, of the kind of despicable things they’d engaged in due to the horrid conditions they were being subjected to. It drove them to absolute madness, which led to both of them seeking solace and a sense of familiarity within each other — desperate longing, uncontrollable lust and a primitive desire awakened and exposed — and as a result, he’d ended up conceiving a child with his own daughter.</p><p>Tony had felt sick to his stomach about it, but Morgan’s reaction to it all was even more nauseating. It was as if she could not see the ugliness in which that baby had come about, could not see — or perhaps <em>refused</em> to see that nothing beautiful could ever possibly come from <em>this</em>, from their abominable union and the reprehensible things they’d chosen to engage in with one another out of pure insanity and hopelessness, because they were lonely, depressed, broken down and abused, in all the ways there is to abuse another human being.</p><p>Tony <em>hated</em> that baby and what its mere existence symbolized for him; however that did not mean he’d wanted Morgan to suffer because of it. Lord knows that is the absolute<em> last </em>thing Tony’s ever wanted, even if he’d ended up with the outcome he secretly wished for as far as the baby was concerned, just not at his daughter’s expense.</p><p>The memories of watching her being held down, the sorrowful sounds she made as they performed an abortion on her was too much to bear. Morgan looked as if she was dying on that stretcher they had her on, another part of his daughter that withered away right before his eyes and yet again, Tony allowed it to happen to her.</p><p>Yet again, he could not protect her. He was rendered powerless by his restraints to his wrists and ankles, fighting to be set free, but never being quite strong enough to set himself free, only possessing the ability to watch them desecrate his daughter once more, almost as if they had discovered newer and crueler ways to inflict pain upon them, upon his daughter.</p><p>A lethal anger surged through him when he thought about the unadulterated vulnerability his daughter had on display, begging for them to put an end to her misery, but to no avail.</p><p>Morgan cried, cried and cried, called for him and all he did was weep, once again at his lack of strength and his inability to do anything to counteract any of it.</p><p>And now, Morgan was haunting to look at, a shell of her former self, a sickly pale she was, and her eyes held such unspeakable horror behind them, as if she had seen the absolute worst, experienced things that had truly broken her spirit, sucked the life out of her, chewed her up and spat her out like garbage.</p><p>Tony’s heart ached at the sight, because he could see how they’d damaged his daughter, in ways that can never truly be repaired, no matter what he did.</p><p>Tony knew that Morgan would never truly recover from what was done to her, never forget it either, and he hated it more than anything, because it was just another traumatic event she was subjected to, which only served as a reminder of his inability to protect her from it.</p><p>He stares at her for a long while before he decides to speak, his eyes droopy but focused, observing the way she seems to stare into space, nails pressing into the arm that was full of healing stitches and digging her nails into her own flesh with such pressure it eventually broke skin.</p><p>Morgan didn’t even flinch as blood began to trickle down her arm, she just continued tugging at her stitches some more, as if her goal was for them to unravel completely, which would result in further injuring herself in the process.</p><p>“…Morgan,” he finally speaks, hoarse in tone and quite weak, probably from all of the yelling he’d done recently. “…M-Morgan…”</p><p>His voice seems to trigger her in some way, because just before he was able to reach her, she’s flying full speed into the solid concrete wall opposite of her, smashing right into it headfirst, a disturbing sound of human bone connecting with the concrete before she’s slumping to the ground, utterly unconscious, or dead. She’d certainly hit her head hard enough to crack her skull at the speed she rammed into the wall.</p><p>Tony screamed, despite the burning sensation it caused in his throat as he quickly crawled over to her unconscious form and immediately went to check her pulse and by the grace of God, there is one despite the heavy ache in the pit of his belly at the sight of his daughter, blood dripping down the side of her face.</p><p>“Why?” Tony laments as tears wet his cheeks and drip from his chin. “Why would you do this to yourself?”</p><p>Why did he <em>let</em> this happen to her? Why didn’t he fight harder to protect her? Why didn’t he do more to prevent this from ever happening to either of them?</p><p>Those were questions Tony was unsure he’d ever have the answers to; it was the questions that he would never stop asking himself, no matter how unproductive it was to continue doing so at this point.</p><p>It fed into his ever growing self-hatred and he wouldn’t stop asking himself these questions until he had the answers, until he did <em>more </em>to protect his daughter from their assailants, did more to find a way to get them out of this situation in one piece. However that possibility was looking more and more bleak the longer they remained in captivity, at the mercy of their sadistic assailants.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan remained unconscious for quite some time, for what felt like eternity. Tony worried about whether she would ever wake up. It seemed as if he was checking for a pulse or a heartbeat every other second.</p><p>Morgan had hit her head hard enough to cause possible internal bleeding and swelling of the brain. Tony worried, agonized about it, had nightmares because of it. He couldn’t pretend as if he didn’t understand why Morgan would do something like this, especially after what she’s been subjected to, but it didn’t stop the anger from surging through him as a result of her selfish actions.</p><p>Yes, he considered them selfish, because although he’d sympathized with her reasoning behind the desire to end her life, did Morgan ever stop to think about what it would do to him? How it would affect him to have her snatched away from him in such a violent way? How badly he would miss her? How he would drive himself crazy with guilt and anger at being the indirect reason for why she decided to do what she did? Did she stop to consider the fact that he would then be left in this hellhole alone, with no one to turn to but the depressing thoughts that swirled around in his head nonstop?</p><p>Maybe it made Tony the selfish one for wanting Morgan to consider all of this before she’d jumped to make such a permanent decision without even considering his input.</p><p>Tony didn’t care though, because he’d wanted Morgan to know the damage she would leave him in if she ever considered doing this again. She needed to know that he loved her, that she was his entire world, and it would all come crumbling down — more than it already has — the moment she decided to kill herself, especially in the manner in which she did it, which only gave Tony a glimpse into the hell that was taking place in his daughter’s mind, body and heart with such an intensity that it drove her to the edge of her sanity.</p><p>Morgan was much younger than he was, her mindset was different and her tolerance level was at a different level than his, understandably so. She was strong, but could only take so much abuse and trauma before it began to eat away at her psyche, torment her in ways nothing else ever has, and consume the majority of her thoughts, to the point where she believed the only way to end it all was to end her life.</p><p>Tony could see the way their circumstances had taken its toll on them both and he’d wondered how long they’d been stuck here for, how long this would go on for, how much more their bodies would be able to withstand without proper nutrition, a healthy amount of water and food, which they hadn’t been getting at all and it showed.</p><p>Perhaps this had been the plan all along. Instead of a swift death like Tony had initially thought, the plan was to kill them slowly, make their deaths long, painful and drawn out. Torture them physically, mentally and emotionally, to where they would be driven to kill themselves instead, in a desperate attempt at ending their own suffering and speeding up the process for their assailants.</p><p>Tony had been tempted to do just that, more often than he would ever be willing to admit, but it was Morgan that gave him the strength to trudge on despite the persistent temptation to give up. He had to stay strong for his daughter; he had to save her, even if he couldn’t save himself. He had to find a way out of here for her. She still had a full life ahead of her, so much potential that had yet to be explored, so much to give to the world. Tony had to continue to fight for her because it was what Morgan deserved. She ended up in this situation because of Tony’s recklessness. It wasn’t fair that she seemed to burden the brunt of it.</p><p>Tony had desperately tried to tune out the thoughts of despair as he tended to Morgan’s reinjured arm, where the stitches had been disrupted by Morgan’s incessant probing. Morgan’s arm had healed up for the most part, but she had dug her nails into the sensitive flesh with such a harshness that had inevitably caused the area on her arm further trauma.</p><p>Tony monitored her closely and willed for her to wake, sooner rather than later. He watched her for long periods of time, sometimes braided her hair and bathed her with the measly cloth they were left to make due with to keep themselves semi-clean and hygienic.</p><p>It was when Tony had taken a really good look at how much his daughter had changed in the unknown period time they’d been here — wherever here was at this point.</p><p>Morgan had lost a significant amount of weight, an obvious result of their circumstances and the fact that she was unable to keep much down as of late, what with all of the vomiting and nausea she’d been experiencing due to her previous condition, it was bound to take a toll on her physical appearance. Bones protruded out against her naked skin that appeared ashen in color, riddled with faded marks and bruises, and her hair had grown much longer than he remembered, something he took notice of as he tangled his fingers through it when he braided the long brown strands together that now reached more than halfway down her back.</p><p>Tony could see that he also shared at ashen complexion with his daughter, his own hair had grown out a bit, short wavy locks of hair began to take form on his head, as well as his goatee that was slowly but surely growing out into a full-on beard.</p><p>He’d also had lost quite a bit of weight, giving him the appearance of a frail and feeble old man. Tony was forty-six and had the body of a seventy-year old.</p><p>It was more than frightening to witness his own body and Morgan’s negatively transform this way. It only served as a reminder of how long they’d been here for, even if Tony himself had no clue how long it’d been, obviously long enough for physical transformations to take place as a result of their awful circumstances and overall environment.</p><p>They were growing weaker and weaker; both physically and psychologically. They were getting attacked at every conceivable angle there was to attack someone, all of their weak and vulnerable spots were wide open for any incursions their assailants had on deck for them, and Tony wasn’t sure how much more either of them could take, especially Morgan. As hard as it was, he’d have to remain strong for the both of them.</p><p>Tony must’ve been a hopeful fool at this point or plain idiotic, but there was still a very small portion of him that hoped and believed there was possibility they could make it out of this situation — barely alive, barely breathing, and certainly not unscathed, but alive nevertheless. He would fight until the very end, for Morgan... but most of all, because she deserved a better end than this, didn’t deserve to die in a place as horrendous as this, didn’t deserve the years of her youth withered away in the confines of this prison cell that had felt equivalent to hell on earth.</p><p>Tony wouldn’t allow her to leave the earth this way, in this manner, leave <em>him</em> all alone like this, to wallow in his own self-pity and guilt.</p><p>It simply wasn’t an option.</p><p> </p><p>~*~</p><p> </p><p>Tony doesn’t think he’s ever cried as much as he did during Morgan’s prolonged state of unconsciousness. The longer time seems to go by that she doesn’t wake, the heavier the unpleasant ache is in his chest and belly becomes, the incessant pressure in his head becoming more and more unbearable, like his head will fall off his shoulders at any given moment, and the tears that drip from his eyes never seem to cease. In fact, the tears seemed to pour out from him more rapidly than ever before, dripping down onto Morgan’s face as he holds onto her, obsessively checking for a pulse and a heartbeat.</p><p>The faith Tony has in the prospect of his daughter ever awaking again wanes as time progresses (or what <em>felt</em> like time progressing, he wasn’t quite sure about the essence of time anymore, only that everything felt like eternity now, never ending, infinite).</p><p>There’s nothing that Tony could do to escape the inevitable possibility that Morgan could’ve successfully killed herself by what she’d done. As much as he didn’t want to accept it, he had to consider it a possibility at this point. His heart kept denying it, but his mind kept telling him that there was a strong chance he’d lost Morgan forever, that she was either dead by now or in a comatose state (which could explain why she still had a strong pulse and heartbeat) and if that was the case, she would be in a vegetative state, which, in truth, was equivalent to death — death of the mind at the very least.</p><p>Tony can’t sleep anymore; he is restless and disturbed in all ways there is to be. He finds that he is unable to escape the horrendous thoughts resulting from his circumstances anymore, of the nature of his relationship with his daughter, of her possible death.</p><p>Tony had nightmares because of it. Nightmares of watching his daughter die a million deaths, each one worse than the last, and not one of them was he was he able to save her from her inevitable fate. When Tony slept now, he dreamt of the different ways Morgan would meet her fate with death and each time that he tried to rescue her, he failed. Every single time.</p><p>It seemed that every time Tony would close his eyes in attempt to get some semblance of rest, he would witness the brutality his daughter would be subjected to that would inevitably lead to her demise and it was as if Tony was as powerless in his nightmares as he was in his waking life, and it ate away at him… ate away at whatever soul was left in this body he occupied that often felt like dead weight.</p><p>Tony didn’t like to sleep anymore because of the horror that would await him, conjured up by his own mind and the appalling scenarios it would create, just to torment him, just for him to suffer, so much more than he already was.</p><p>The silver lining Tony finds in his despair is the fact that they’re left alone, unbothered by their assailants, a smidge of mercy bestowed upon them from time to time that Tony savors. Solitude was always a better option than unwanted company and Tony would take it every time, even if it meant that he would be inevitably left with the dreadful thoughts that seemed omnipresent in his mind no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, they wouldn’t go away.</p><p>It’s the source of why he’d been crying so much now, because those toxic, pernicious thoughts had become so much louder now that he didn’t have Morgan to distract him from them, or sleep.</p><p>They are overwhelming, incessant and merciless. Tony believed himself to have gone insane when he thought he heard the concrete walls talk to him, when he began to see things that couldn’t have possibly been there in the room with him.</p><p>The only solace he could find was when he would hold Morgan close and tell her stories he used to tell her when she was a stubborn little girl who refused to go to sleep when her bedtime rolled around.</p><p>Those were during the simpler, happier times in Tony’s life, before things had taken a drastic turn for the worse. Tony finds himself often thinking back on that era in his life, when Morgan had been a little girl, because it was when he’d been the happiest, when she would stick to him like glue, beg for him to carry her on his shoulders when they would go out, would reach out to hold his hand whenever the opportunity presented itself. A true daddy’s girl at heart, really.</p><p>It was so innocent back then, so sweet and endearing, sacred it was, nothing disgusting or nefarious about it. He loved Morgan like every father loves their child, their only daughter, with every fiber in him. Perhaps, Tony had always loved Morgan more than the average father loved their daughter.</p><p>Tony had always been willing to go to the ends of the earth for Morgan, everyone knew she’d stolen his heart the moment she entered this world — red as a tomato with the lungs of an opera singer. Tony had never understood how far and long a parent’s love could and <em>would</em> go for their children until he had Morgan.</p><p>It had always been quite overwhelming to Tony, the feeling of someone’s mere existence being your entire world, and the lengths he would go to give his daughter everything her heart desired, spoiled her rotten with the inability to tell her no, never wanting Morgan to hurt for anything. The lengths he would go just to protect her. It partially explained why their relationship had taken the dark turn it did once they’d ended up here.</p><p>Many fathers wouldn’t have been willing to go to those extreme lengths that he did to protect Morgan, even under the direst of circumstances... and yet... he’d done it. He’d done that and more. And it’s what led to a warped sense of reality, of them proceeding to carry on as if they had been forbidden lovers reuniting after spending centuries apart rather than father and daughter. The switch had been so abrupt, so unexpected, so swift, yet the transition of it all — from father and daughter in one moment to passionate lovers in the next would always be what got to him most, baffle him beyond belief.</p><p>Tony was sure most of it had to do with the set of circumstances they found themselves in, unable to cope; the abuse they’d been subjected to thus far being so severe, so intense and so unbearable, it made them cling to one another even more, depend on each other in ways they never had to before, and seek peace and comfort in each other in ways neither of them could’ve predicted, desperate for relief and some sort of outlet as a result of all of the trauma and abuse they’d endured on a regular basis.</p><p>Perhaps, Tony had been trying to make sense of something that would never truly make sense nor would it ever be excusable or forgivable no matter how many times he tried to rationalize his actions and blame it solely on their situation when, at the end of the day, his actions were his own and he’d made the choice to do what he did with Morgan after the first time. No one had held him at gun or knife point all of those other times he indulged his desires with his very own daughter.</p><p>There was nothing to justify, not the incestuous lovemaking that resulted in the conception of a baby (that would simultaneously be his grandchild as well, <em>dear God!</em>) and certainly not the feelings he’d developed thereafter, feelings that now went far beyond the undying love of an overprotective father.</p><p>If it’d been overwhelming before, it was damn near unbearable now. It was perhaps the only thing that weighed heavier on him than their horrifying circumstances, because Tony had known that, even if they were able to somehow escape, these feelings would remain, buried deep within the epicenter of his being, and that was far more frightening to Tony than anything else.</p><p>Morgan had been correct when she said that things would never go back to normal after this, if they survived any of it that is, no matter how much Tony wanted things to return to the way they were before — it would be an impossible feat. Nothing could erase what has already taken place; the trauma, the abuse, the sacred line that was crossed, between a parent and a child, a father and daughter, over and over and over again.</p><p>Tony knew he would be an idiotic to believe things could ever go back to the way they had been before, but a small part of him still had hope, no matter how foolish he knew it was.</p><p>Tony stares at his daughter’s unconscious face and if he hadn’t known better, he would think she was in a deep sleep instead of knocked out cold.</p><p>He brushes his fingers through her hair and holds her close while his tears continue to wet her face and it is only then that he releases what has been weighing him down since their incestuous affair began.</p><p>“…You can’t leave me like this Morgan, not this way, not now, not ever.” The pads of his trembling fingers brush against the side of her face. “I won’t be able to go on without you… I can’t… I won’t.”</p><p>Tony pauses, sniffling and resting his head against the concrete wall behind him.</p><p>“...You had to have known how much this would hurt me, how killing yourself would kill a large part of me too...” He sniffles again before he continues. “…I’ve loved before... I love your mother, but I’d never known a love like this until you were born and I held you in my arms for the very first time. God, you were no bigger than my hand, so tiny and delicate. I laid my eyes on you once and that’s all it took for me to know that I could never love another the way I loved you. I would’ve given you the world if you asked.”</p><p>Tony pauses again, feeling that familiar lump forming in his throat and sting at the corner of his eyes.</p><p>“…And then this happened and we had our entire lives flipped upside down in every aspect, in ways we never could’ve foreseen… including my relationship with you, which is obviously much different now than it ever was before. My love for you will always remain the same, but it’s different now.” His fingers idly twirl around a long strand of hair as he feels his throat dry. “…I love you in ways Morgan, that a father <em>never </em>should, in ways that often make me feel sick inside, that make me want to take a knife to my throat and end it all… but it’s you that’s kept me going, because you deserve better than <em>this</em>, so much better.”</p><p>Tony chews on his trembling bottom lip as more tears spill from his eyes.</p><p>“…I know I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with and that I don’t always act like it, but you mean more to me than you could ever possibly know, you’ve always held a special place in my heart… a heart that solely belongs to you now… and if you leave this earth with it, then I have no choice but to leave it with you...”</p><p>Tony leans down and plants a kiss to his daughter’s forehead before he allows his sobs to overcome him, letting out the most gut-wrenching cries Tony has ever heard coming out of his own mouth.</p><p>“Don’t you leave me like this Morgan. Don’t you dare!”</p><p>And Tony cries until his body slumps against the wall and he could no longer hear the deafening silence he was met with anymore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. 19. Paralyzed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>“This feels like another dream<br/>Trapped underneath my own routines<br/>I tried to lift it off of me<br/>I give up, I give up<br/>I just sit and bleed<br/>I’m paralyzed<br/>Stuck in the middle<br/>And I’m paralyzed<br/>Arms and legs in between<br/>Caught inside a stupid dream<br/>Look for her, but cannot see<br/>The only way to cope<br/>Is to realize<br/>I’m paralyzed”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello sweethearts! I hope you all are healthy and safe! As a forewarning: this will be another particularly intense and disturbing chapter (aren’t they all? <em>Yes<em>, but this one adds a <em>whole<em> other layer of desolation, if that is even possible at this point (<s>it is</s>)) so before you proceed forward, you’ve been warned!</em></em></em></em></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tony awakens to the abrupt, blood curdling sounds of his daughter’s whimpers. Initially, Tony believed it to be a dream or perhaps it’d been another hallucination of his, a result of his mind playing tricks on him yet again.</p><p>But then the whimpers turned into audible sobs that were all too familiar to his ears as they practically perk up at the noise, eyelids flying open to find his weeping daughter beside him, right where he’d left her.</p><p>He gasps and quickly sits up to look at her in utter and complete shock, panic surging through him as well as unadulterated delight — a feeling he certainly hadn’t felt in quite a while.</p><p>“Morgan,” he breathes out shakily. “…Morgan, honey, you’re awake…”</p><p>It’s only then that Tony takes notice of the swell of the large purple bruise that covers part of her forehead or the crimson that colors the whites of her eyes, a clear sign of some of the broken blood vessels in her eyes; subconjunctival hemorrhage that was more than likely an effect due to the harsh blow to her head. It was frightening to Tony at first glance, coupled with the large bruise; his daughter looked like an extra off The Walking Dead, perhaps worse.</p><p>However, the awful condition his daughter was clearly in didn’t stop Tony from reeling her in for a bear hug, unable to contain the way his heart fluttered at the sight of his daughter alive — just barely, but there had still been breath in her lungs and life in her body, no matter how battered and bruised it was because of it, and Tony had been eternally grateful. He knew he would’ve lost his mind if he’d lost Morgan, lost his will to continue to fighting, lost his will to continue living.</p><p>Tony tries not to allow his mind to drift to what would’ve become of him had Morgan succeeded in ending her life, leaving him in hellish solitude, to rot — for how long, until he probably perished himself.</p><p>It was selfish as hell and perhaps a bit sick, but at this point, he would much rather have Morgan by his side throughout all of this, no matter how bad it got, than to lose her forever, in such a permanent and violent way. And there’d been a part of Tony, a large part of him that knew he’d lost her already… in a different way, long before this. Tony didn’t want to see it, but he did and it’d been obvious.</p><p>Morgan wasn’t the girl she was before all of this happened, understandably so, because somewhere in the midst of the brutality of their circumstances, witnessing his daughter assaulted and brutalized in more ways than one and the harrowing thoughts that lingered in his subconscious as a result, as well as the countless boundaries that’d been crossed with his own flesh and blood and the incestuous affair that was spawned from it all, Tony had lost himself too.</p><p>Lost himself the moment he forfeited what little bit of integrity he did have left after all of these years because he’d wanted to know if Morgan’s lips felt as soft as they looked, lost himself when that morbid curiosity of his had inevitably gotten the best of him, consuming him in ways that he’d found difficult to suppress, to will away like he very well should have.</p><p>When he’d given in to the nefarious desires born from horrific circumstances, it was precisely when he’d willingly signed his soul over to the devil, became a monster, a savage of some sort, with an insatiable appetite for his daughter’s body, became obsessed with her in ways that weren’t deemed healthy or appropriate. He couldn’t get enough of the ways her body would contort in various positions to please him, her sweet kisses, the sounds she made when he laved her body with affection and adoration and the faces she made when he was inside her, when she would writhe underneath him from the intensity of her orgasm or the way she’d yank at the wavy strands of his hair as he tongue kissed her pussy until she was an incoherent mess, unable to string along a sentence as tears filled her eyes and her lashes fluttered in unadulterated delight.</p><p>Tony never thought it would’ve ever come to this, where he would harbor unnatural feelings towards his own seed, but he did, and he hated himself more than he ever thought possible because of it.</p><p>But what scared him more than anything was the peculiar glint in Morgan’s eyes when he would catch her staring at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, during those desolate moments of despair that seemed to stretch on for what felt like eternity, when they would allow the darkness to consume them, desperate for some semblance of happiness and fulfillment, no matter how short-lived it was, and they’d always found it in each other, in the vigorous acts of needful sex, a regular occurrence it became because of the pleasure and relief that followed that was almost instantaneous.</p><p>Sometimes, it was quick and rough… and then there were other times where they’d moved at a leisured pace, it was intimate; their limbs were languorous as they tangled with one another and their kisses and touches were tender and affectionate. It was in these moments that he found himself frightened to death, because it was in those intimate moments with his daughter that he was reminded, in the eerie silence of their dismal conditions, that whatever had developed between them was far more insidious than the mere act of sex itself. It was <em>far</em> more complex than that at this point; something beautifully dark had webbed its way inside of them, seeped into their core, sprouting out like fully grown branches, infecting them like some incurable disease, infecting his mind, body and whatever was left of his wretched soul.</p><p>They were too far gone, Tony was too far gone and he knew things would never return to the way they were before and he hated it, more than anything else, if that was even remotely possible at this point.</p><p>Morgan seemed completely out of it, utterly disoriented and unable to string along a coherent sentence. As eager as Tony was to get some answers out of her, all he did was hold onto her trembling form, tangle his fingers in her hair and provide her with the paternal comfort he knew she needed, especially in that moment.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan didn’t speak, for how long, Tony didn’t know, but it felt like eternity.</p><p>She cried, she slept, and she began to experience intense nightmares that left her utterly inconsolable and unable to formulate a coherent sentence.</p><p>She would scream and shake with unadulterated fear. There were times where she would allow him to hold her, to pull her in closely and quell her cries of agony with his gentle kisses and soothing touch.</p><p>Other times, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him, where his touch would ignite a particularly nasty reaction from her, a violent one that left Tony with more bruises than he could count.</p><p>During those times, he would leave her be no matter how hard it was to do so. To hear her cry in that heart-wrenching way that she did always elicited his paternal instincts to do whatever it took to make sure she was safe and protected, and it was difficult to ignore; the inherent need to run to her aid whenever she was in any sort of distress.</p><p>He wanted to put an end to her suffering and unadulterated anguish, but there were times when she would react so uncharacteristically violent whenever he would attempt to hold her close and provide her some semblance of comfort and relief, she would turn him away and as much as her distance and violent outbursts had crushed whatever was left of his soul, he knew giving her that space every now and then (despite the confinement and limited amount of space they had) is what she needed.</p><p>It was clear to Tony that his daughter had been suffering from a severe form of PTSD. He’d recognized the symptoms almost immediately and it was haunting. He didn’t believe he had any more tears left to cry at this point, but he did, especially as he would watch Morgan convulse, her body going into intense spasms as she whined, screamed, vomited and cried. Her skin was almost always cold now during the times she would let him hold her until her sobs quieted down to barely audible whimpers until she would fall asleep in his arms as he would run his fingers through her hair, damp from sweat.</p><p>Tony would always cherish those moments when she would let him pull her trembling frame onto his lap while she rested her head on his shoulder, burying her face into his neck, and Tony would feel the warmth of her breath on his skin, causing a shudder to reverberate throughout his body. And it was as if she was his baby again, the beautiful yet vulnerable little girl Tony had always regarded her as, curling up into him in a similar way she did when she’d been too small to formulate a coherent sentence (though she’d tried <em>so</em> damn hard), a petite little thing she was that always sought solace in his arms. No matter how bad things would get in her life, she knew that things would be somewhat okay as long as she had him, as long as she could find peace and protection in his embrace.</p><p>And it rang true for Tony as well, despite whatever crisis he may have been faced with in his life at one point or another. Ultimately, it was his daughter whom he found strength in, motivation to keep going — even now, despite how bleak their future seemed, Tony’s will to live heavily relied on Morgan. He had to survive <em>for</em> <em>her</em>, to continue fighting <em>for her</em>, because he knew that she depended on him to get her out of this, to be the superhero she’d always envisioned for him to be. He owed it to Morgan to be that for her, especially now more than ever. It was what she deserved and what she was entitled to. Anything less than that would be not only pathetic, but insulting.</p><p>If he couldn’t protect his own daughter from the wrath their captors bestowed upon them on a daily basis or put any of his supposed genius to use by formulating a plan to escape, then he was as good as dead, or might as well be.</p><p>If he as her father could not help her, then who could?</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Tony is startled awake by an audible growling in his ear followed by harsh panting sounds.</p><p>At first, he believes it to be another one of his hallucinations, perhaps a large part of him hoped it would be, <em>yearned</em> for it to be. However, much like everything else in his life, it wasn’t what he’d anticipated it to be — <em>far</em> from it.</p><p>The moment he opens his eyes, large canines occupy his peripheral vision and as he cautiously turns his head to the side, it is only then that he realizes it belongs to an equally large dog, coated in silky black &amp; red fur with a piercing pair of icy blue eyes as they scowled at him menacingly — a German Shepherd.</p><p>Tony yelps and attempts to scuttle away, but it’s the precise moment he realizes that he cannot move, that his limbs are bound by heavy metal chains, while he lied face down on the cold concrete flooring.</p><p>“Sleeping beauty’s finally awake! Now the fun can begin!” An obnoxious voice reverberates from behind where Tony cannot see who it is, though he doesn’t have to try real hard to guess.</p><p>Tony lifts his head and his daughter immediately comes into his line of vision, right across the room, curled up in a fetal position, utterly knocked out.</p><p>There’s more than one person in the room, judging by the various murmurs that sound from somewhere behind him. He feels something fury brush past his leg and it prompts him to move, attempting to wiggle out of his vulnerable position, but it’s of no use. He tries anyway despite the odds of the situation stacked against him, groaning in discontent when his restless movements don’t produce satisfactory results.</p><p>“Stark! So glad to see you up and at ‘em! How’re you feeling? Like shit I hope.” The man chuckles, though from Tony’s vantage point, all he could see is his feet. Black steel toed work boots. “Anyways, we’ve come down here to have some fun with you two, but it seems the princess here is worse for wear. That’s unfortunate.”</p><p>“Don’t you touch her,” Tony utters out in a guttural tone of voice. “Whatever you came down here for, leave her out of it.”</p><p>“But what would be the fun in that?” Another familiar voice taunts derisively from behind him. “Besides, you may want to rethink that once we get started with our plans for the hour.”</p><p>“I don’t care, I don’t…” A lump forms in Tony’s throat as he cranes his neck to gaze up at his assailants pleadingly. “Do whatever you want with me; just… just don’t lay a finger on her. Leave her alone. Please…”</p><p>“If that’s your final decision,” one of them answers after a brief moment of silence. “Because once we begin, there will be no reneging on it.”</p><p>“I’m sure,” Tony firmly replies despite the apprehension he felt within. There was absolutely <em>no</em> way he was going to allow Morgan to be the punching bag yet again, not when their assailants were actually giving him a choice this time around. “Leave her be.”</p><p>“Hm, well, with the sudden change of plans, this might be more fun than I originally thought.” One of them muses to the other.</p><p>“Oh, we ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” the other replies smugly.</p><p>Now, perhaps Tony had been naïve and outright foolish to believe nothing could get worse than they already were, that nothing could ever measure up to all that he’s done to his daughter, all the things he’s allowed to happen to her on his watch, witnessing her slipping away from him the longer they were held captive, watching her attempt to end it all by way of suicide, the sound of human bone connecting with concrete never truly escaping him.</p><p>However, what they’d gone through, what they’d been subjected to thus far had only been merely scratching the surface of the unadulterated depravity that’d been in-store for them ahead.</p><p>Tony finds this out sooner rather than later when the first lash comes against the skin of his back, so loud and so violent it leaves a disturbing echo throughout the small room, instantly breaking skin, which evokes an audible cry from him in response.</p><p>“Oh, come on now Stark, don’t tell me you’re <em>that</em> soft. The fun hasn’t even truly begun yet!”</p><p>The second lash comes before he has time to recover from the excruciating pain of the first. His knuckles turn white from how tightly he squeezes them together.</p><p>“He’s already bleeding. Such a frail old man.” One of them taunts, derisive laughter following thereafter, though Tony can vaguely make out anything they’re saying, can only focus on the sting of the whip they use to bloody his spine up with.</p><p>The third crack of the whip to his skin takes his breath away, brings forth tears to his eyes, inevitably blurring his vision, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth down onto the concrete floor.</p><p>Tony’s eyes, red-rimmed and wet with tears, just barely makes out the silhouette of Morgan across the room; passed out, blissfully unaware of what was taking place, but safe, protected and unharmed nonetheless. This is how it should’ve been, how he always wanted it to be, for <em>him</em> to be the punching bag for once, to shield her from all of the sickening depravity their assailants bestowed upon them.</p><p>Keeping his eyes leveled and focused on Morgan is what grounds him, eyes blurring from unshed tears that gathered at the corner of his eyes as he attempted to blink them away. He lost count after the lashes to his skin became consecutive, merciless and relentless. The pain was undoubtedly excruciating, his teeth chattering while his muscles painfully tensed up with every gut-wrenching lash to his skin, across the expanse of his back and down his thighs. The whip seemed able to reach every place Tony could think of; hips, calves and shoulder blades.</p><p>Tony’s vision began to double, partially from the tears that spilled from his eyes at a rapid pace, but mostly due to the intensity of the stinging his skin felt, like needles piercing every inch of his skin that’d felt like it was about to peel off of his body at any second.</p><p>“S-Stop…” he barely gets out, but truthfully, whatever he said made no difference. It never did. They wouldn’t stop because their depravity had no limits, not as long as someone was screaming from the unadulterated pain or begging for mercy. Morgan had done it plenty of times and they never listened. Tony dreadfully recollects how they’d laughed at his daughter’s cries, at her misfortune, at her misery.</p><p>Tony lets out a grunt that is just barely drowned out by the audible sounds of the skin of his back being ruptured, or at least that’s what it felt like, especially if the crimson liquid that dripped, staining the concrete was anything to go by. It was a brighter red than the color of the bulbs that dangled above, much brighter than the crimson that marked Morgan’s thighs that he found himself consistently washing away whenever she allowed him close enough to do so.</p><p>The heavy chains locked securely around his wrists and ankles feel like weights as they loudly clank against the concrete from his movements, from his poor attempts to free himself from the restraints as his pathetic wails went largely ignored and mocked. The lashes from the whip that pierced and tore through his skin with every bit of contact left him breathless, instantly stealing what little strength he had left to fight.</p><p>Tony had lost consciousness at some point throughout it all, he couldn’t recollect when it happened exactly, just that his vision went black for quite some time or what felt like quite some time. He obviously wasn’t out long enough to be subjected to any of his usual night terrors, but he was in a state of absolute bleakness, quietness, the dark abyss of his mind, an unsettling place it was, but a somewhat preferable alternative than his current reality — just barely.</p><p>“I think he’s ready for the big boys,” Elijah states, handing the bloodied whip to the outreached hand, flexing his knuckles a bit as they cracked, turning to face Logan. “Bring the rest of ‘em in.”</p><p>“Won’t have to tell me twice,” Logan smirks, offering a wink his way before he leaves the small, compact room and eventually returns with three large dogs of varying breeds.</p><p>“Are they ready?”</p><p>“Ready as they’ll ever be,” Logan replies, glancing down at the German Shepherd that had begun to sniff at the heel of the unconscious male’s foot curiously. “The real question is: is <em>he</em> ready?”</p><p>“Doesn’t really matter at this point now does it?” Elijah smirks, crossing the short distance to retrieve the bucket full of boiling hot water Logan had filled only minutes beforehand in the midst of Tony’s hysterics while being flogged repeatedly. “I’m sure this will be enough to get him ready.”</p><p>Logan pulled the hounds back by their leashes as Elijah wastes no time pouring boiling hot liquid over onto the bruised and battered male’s unconscious body; an unsettling sizzling sound follows thereafter as the scorching liquid settles into the grooves and crevices of ruptured flesh.</p><p>The smell of rust and burned human flesh fills the air as well as the agonizing wails of Tony as he comes to with an abrupt start.</p><p>“Wakey, wakey, sleepy head!” Elijah chuckles, leaning down to slap the side of Tony’s face that was wet tears. “We aren’t quite done with you yet. We’d like to have some more fun with you and we’ve brought company!”</p><p>Tony is greeted by the audible growls of greyhounds perched to the far left of him. He can barely move, turn his head much less, but he can hear them and something unpleasant churns in the pit of his belly.</p><p>“P-Please—”</p><p>“Let me introduce you to the newcomers because they’re <em>quite</em> eager to meet you.”</p><p>Tony can just barely make out the large hound whose snout presses into his hair, aimlessly sniffing his scalp.</p><p>“Meet Sampson, the beautiful black-haired Great Dane imported straight from German soil. He’s the oldest out of the bunch so he will be granted the honor of being the first to mount you.”</p><p>Tony, despite his worse for wear state, blanches at his assailant’s words, unable to properly register what was said.</p><p>Elijah didn’t miss the ghastly expression that crossed Tony’s face as he chucked in response as he ran his fingers through gleaming black fur of the large Great Dane who still leant down to curiously sniff at the restrained man, obviously taking to his scent quite well.</p><p>“Oh yes, that’s what we’re doing here. They will <em>all</em> get a turn with you, for however many times they want, for however long they want, and you will get to be their fuck toy until you no longer interest them. You <em>will</em> comply or else we’ll get the girl to do it. I’m sure they would love a round with that tight wet pussy, wouldn’t you boys?”</p><p>A ragged sob sounded from Tony, hissing audibly as he could feel the wide tongue of the Great Dane licking at the open wounds of his back.</p><p>There had been no way in hell he would allow Morgan to be subjected to something like this. It wasn’t an option for him. It never was and it never will be and they knew it, which is why they proceeded to laugh at him as his sobs nearly shook his body as he’d began to reluctantly accept his fate and the nefarious plans they had in-store for him.</p><p>“Sampson’s such an eager beaver, he wants to jump your bones already and it hasn’t even been a full five minutes of meeting you yet.” Elijah chuckles. “I guess there’s no reason to continue teasing him like this. He’s already become quite acquainted with you, so I suppose we should begin.”</p><p>And it becomes somewhat of a blur for Tony when it eventually does begin and Tony couldn’t recollect a time in his forty-six years on earth where he’d undergone an out-of-body experience, where his body didn’t feel like his own, but a mere vessel used to fulfil a sinister purpose, and he was observing it all from a bird’s-eye view in disbelief at what was happening, what was taking place and the eerie quietness that filled the small, compact room. So quiet one could hear a pin drop. Even the assailants had been eerily silent. And somehow, their quietude oddly made the situation all the more surreal for Tony.</p><p>The Great Dane was quite large as its fury form hovered above him, his tongue lapping at the numerous contusions covering his back, every swift swipe of his tongue to the ruptured flesh stung immensely, causing more tears to pour from his eyes. The Great Dane proceeded to lick at his wounds for quite some time before finally moving away to sniff at the rest of his skin again, large tongue occasionally swiping across his thighs and calves, before moving down between his legs to sniff.</p><p>Tony wanted to puke at the feeling, wanted to shed his skin and leave this wretched body of his behind as it was about to get defiled by an <em>omnivorous mammal</em> for the sole fact that it was entertaining to these psychopaths who found joy in his misery and unadulterated misfortune. He kept his eyes closed as he let out a pained grunt, reluctantly getting to all fours as instructed to do, his limbs shuddering under his own weight and the energy it took just to move, much less remain in one position for who knows how long on this concrete flooring beneath him. He grits his teeth when the large Great Dane eventually lost interest in licking him between the legs and deciding to mount him instead; one of his large paws pressing into one of his open wounds, drawing out additional blood from the mutilated flesh and evoking an agonizing sob from him in response.</p><p>However nothing could truly compare to being violated by an animal, demeaned and dehumanized by a creature that wasn’t even human to begin with. Tony thinks he would’ve rather been beaten to death than being subjected to something like <em>this</em>, to be <em>raped</em> by a fucking <em>dog</em>, not once or even twice, but over and over and over and <em>over </em>again. It was one of the worst things Tony’s ever had to endure in all of his years on earth and that was saying <em>a lot</em>, but it was the unfortunate truth, and yes, it was <em>that</em> bad. It was not only a physically petrifying nightmare, but a psychological one as well, which Tony figured, was the sole objective in all of this.</p><p>Tony, for the most part anyway, considered himself to be among those that possessed a rather high tolerance for pain and emotional distress (he always found ways, even if they weren’t always healthy, to cope), but this was pushing him to the very edge of whatever sanity he had left (which wasn’t much at this point, obviously).</p><p>The initial penetration had tears pouring out of his eyes, dripping down his face and onto the concrete flooring beneath him, his body rocking back and forth from the Great Dane’s jack rabbit-like thrusts to his anus, but it was the “knotting” that swelled within him, stretching him open in a jarringly unnatural way that left him weeping like a newborn infant. Tony’s eyes glanced up at Morgan again and for the first time since she’d rammed herself into that wall at full speed, he willed her to stay in her state of unconsciousness. He didn’t want her to see him like this, to witness his degradation the way he had hers. Tony didn’t believe he’d ever be able to look Morgan in the eyes if she’d ever witnessed something so repulsive and nauseating as this. Morgan’s inanimate state, if only for the time being, had been the only solace he was able to grasp hold of while being repeatedly sodomized.</p><p>“Next we have Apollo, the European Dobermann, imported directly from the continent coated in beautiful white fur. He can be a bit rough around the edges at first, but I’m sure you will grow to adore him like we did.”</p><p>The Dobermann <em>is </em>rough, unapologetic in his desire to copulate as he wastes no time mounting Tony, his untrimmed nails cause further trauma to his already leaking wounds as he hammers into him. Tony’s body shook from the Dobermann’s rapid movements and he let out grunts of displeasure thereafter.</p><p>“Benji, the stunning German Shepherd with the black &amp; red fur and piercing blue eyes. I think you will probably have the most fun with him. He’s the youngest and quite the charmer. Well, that is if he likes you of course.”</p><p>The German Shepherd doesn’t immediately mount him the way the ones before him had. No, this one takes his time, circles Tony for a bit, sniffing at him, swiping his tongue at his face and neck a couple times before nuzzling up against him, the German Shepherd’s soft fur rubbing against Tony’s skin and admittedly, the feeling is nice, however Tony does not want this to be long and drawn out, he wants to get this over with as soon as possible, so he wouldn’t have to ruminate over all of the damage and emotional toll this would leave him with long after this was over.</p><p>The German Shepherd spends quite some time nuzzling against him before moving behind him to sniff at the flesh between his legs, intrigued.</p><p>Tony reluctantly awaits the inevitable haphazard mounting, but it never comes, at least not as soon as he’d anticipated. Instead, the German Shepherd takes profound interest in the shaft between his legs. Tony’s body began to tremble as unadulterated shame and disgust overcame him in that moment when his growing erection twitched with interest and proceeded to gradually stiffen from the attention it was receiving, regardless to <em>whom</em> or <em>what</em> it was coming from. He attempts to nudge the dog away with his leg, but it’s of no use, the German Shepherd doesn’t budge and there’s not much else Tony can do while restrained this way and he <em>hates</em> it, almost as much as he hates this fucking devil dog.</p><p>“G-Get away from me, you filthy bedevil.”</p><p>It was supposed to sound furious, but it comes out weak instead, apathetic, pitiful even. Tony’s words nor his actions did absolutely nothing to deter the German Shepherd or his erection hardening by the second from the sudden stimulation, until eventually, Tony shudders from an impromptu dry orgasm, his knees aching while his back felt like it was on fire from holding the same position.</p><p>The dog finally moves away from between his legs to nuzzle against him again and Tony could hear the taunting laughter of his assailants from somewhere across the room.</p><p>“You go right ahead there Benji, make him your bitch.”</p><p>The German Shepherd mounts him before he even had time to react and Tony grunts again, from the pain and soreness of being penetrated consecutively for the umpteenth time, and it’s truthfully no different than the other times; still degrading, unbearably painful and exhausting to endure. The process of the knotting wasn’t getting any less painful, not that Tony expected it to because this shouldn’t’ve been happening in the first place, but it was, and it was traumatizing, especially to his body that had already taken its fair share of irrevocably damaging blows.</p><p>“And finally, we have Loki; the American Pit Bull Terrier, milky white fur, olive green eyes, straight from your country of origin.” Elijah smirks. “The thing with Loki though is that he can be <em>quite</em> the aggressive, dominant one. He can smell fear and will attack at the drop of a hat, so I would advise you to be on your best behavior at all times with him, unless you want to get mauled of course.”</p><p>And his assailants were right, the Pit Bull Terrier growled at him the entire time, almost as if the hound was anticipating a slip up from him so he could have an excuse to rip him to shreds. Tony remained still as a statue as the Pit Bull Terrier took his time sizing him up for a bit, those surly green eyes leering at him in a way Tony found quite unnerving.</p><p>The hound circles him, eyeing him with suspicion or what appeared to be suspicion to Tony before he feels the wet snout sniffing at his hips and thighs, his tongue darting out to lick the contusions on his back, drawing out a disgruntled sound from Tony in response to the stinging sensation that followed thereafter.</p><p>The growling ceases once the Pit Bull Terrier mounts Tony, nails piercing the skin of back as the dog clutches onto him for balance as his dog penis probed between his cheeks haphazardly before it eventually found its objective and jerked forward with a harshness that caused an immediate pricking sensation in his backside.</p><p>“<em>Ah!</em>—”</p><p>It’s rough and fast and painful and aggressive and it felt like time stretched on and on and <em>on</em> before the dull ache surfaced, the familiar swell of the knot inside him, stretching his walls to capacity as Tony collapses to the concrete floor as the Pit Bull Terrier hovers above him, panting and drooling and lapping at his contusions again. Tony resisted the urge to push the dog away and instead lies beneath the hound until the swelling goes down and he can be left alone.</p><p>But to Tony’s misfortune; the cycle starts <em>all </em>over again, and he is forced to be subjugated to the degradation all over again. For once, his assailants were telling the truth when they said this could on for however long they felt necessary. And Tony doesn’t know how many times the assaults occur at this point, of how many times exactly every greyhound in that small cramped space had their rounds with him — again and again, and again and <em>again</em>. Over and over. A nonstop cycle of repeated acts of aggressive, animalistic copulation. Tony thinks he may have blacked out at some point in the midst of it all, but when he comes to, he is being pinned to the floor by the Great Dane who pants right by his ear as he thrusts inside him with enough force to shake his battered body, back and forth, back and forth, <em>back and forth</em>.</p><p>It feels never-ending; the greyhounds have excellent stamina proven by how many times they can do this for without overexerting themselves. But eventually, they did grow tired. The Dobermann had been the last one to knot inside Tony for the umpteenth time before eventually pulling out once the swelling went down and proceeded to lounge near the other greyhounds where some had fallen asleep while others simply rested from the energy consuming activity they’d engaged in for what felt like hours on end.</p><p>By the end, Tony was immobile, in such great pain, he was unable to speak or move. All he could do was lie there pathetically. His wrists and ankles ached from the restraints while the rest of his body felt like he’d been ran over repeatedly by a semi-trailer truck, limb by limb.</p><p>“I suppose that’s all the fun we have in-store for you tonight — for now though. Adios!”</p><p>Tony had never been gladder to see those greyhounds out of his sight. When he’d finally been left alone, he vomited all over himself and then fell asleep. They didn’t even bother to unshackle him and for the moment, Tony didn’t even care. He just wanted a moment alone to himself, away from those depraved psychos and their greyhounds that they, without a singular doubt in Tony’s mind, trained to rape and assault for this very specific purpose. He was almost sure of that now.</p><p>Tony felt a juxtaposition of emotions, but most of all: he was glad that it was he who had been subjected to this rather than Morgan. It was the only silver lining he could cling to, the only bright side to this fucked up situation, and he would do it over again if it meant that he could protect her. He would always jump at the opportunity to do so, no questions asked, despite the sanity he would lose much of as a result.</p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. 20. Fleur Captives</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“Peel your petals off<br/>And slowly pull them apart<br/>Take you with me<br/>While I drift off to sleep<br/>And assemble you<br/>Inside of my dreams<br/>You’re a ghost of my mind<br/>Tucked away in a place<br/>Where flowers can’t grow<br/>Your skin turns to dust in my hands<br/>And I’m left holding onto a pile of sand”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“…No, <em>no</em>... please no…”</p><p>Tony had been in the midst of pathetically tending to his wounds, contorting his body in a way that had been nothing short of uncomfortable, all in a desperate attempt at assuaging away the aches and pains that emanated from the deep contusions that covered the length of his spine when he hears her voice for the first time in what felt like eternity.</p><p>Immediately, he startles from the sound and slowly but surely turns his attention towards the direction her voice had come from. Tony blinks, initially suspecting that the sound of her voice had been all inside his head, his mind playing cruel tricks on him yet again, but then he’s met with the sight of her eyes, fluttering up at the red bulbs that hung from above, painting her naked form in a way he’d found majestic, despite the apparent exhaustion and weariness in her tone of voice and overall demeanor.</p><p>Tony swallows thickly, wanting more than anything to scoop her up and hold her close, peppering her face with appreciative, loving kisses, but the excruciating pain he was in kept him from doing so. Something as easy and simple as breathing felt like a chore. Attempting to move was equivalent to running with a broken spine. It was impossible, especially at the moment.</p><p>“…Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony manages to get out despite the stinging sensation he feels in his arms, legs and the skin of his back as he rests his upper body against the cool concrete wall, effectively facing her from across the small room. “...Why didn’t you tell me that you were planning on doing something like that? That you…”</p><p>Tony briefly closes his eyes; unable to say the words verbatim, acknowledge them as reality, despite the visions that flashed through his mind of her ramming herself into the wall at full speed. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it; ever forget his daughter’s desire to leave this place for good, leave him behind, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t.</p><p>“…Didn’t think you would care… thought you hated me… like I hate me…”</p><p>“Hate you? I could never hate you Morgan. How could you believe something like that?”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“Morgan,” Tony sighs, ignoring the pain that shoots up backside as he slightly shifts positions. “Morgan, you… you have to promise me you won’t do something as awful as that ever again.”</p><p>“…Can’t…”</p><p>“What do you mean you ‘can’t’? You can’t or you won’t?” Tony unintentionally snaps, clearly triggered by her aloofness. “Did you ever stop to think about what you tried to do and how it would inevitably destroy me in the process? Did you even care Morgan?”</p><p>“…Did you?”</p><p>“I never stopped,” Tony retorts. “The fact that you could even question if I care—”</p><p>“After I became pregnant… you looked at me differently, like I was the bane of your existence… you didn’t love me then.”</p><p>The pregnancy. The baby. So <em>that</em> was what this was all about for her? Tony clenched his jaw and tries his damndest to keep his temper in check, his anger and resentment at what she’d done. After all, she’d still been a child, his child, and thought like one. Obviously, she believed he didn’t care, thought he hated her because she’d gotten pregnant, and sure, his reaction to it all didn’t help her already guilt-ridden state of mind, and perhaps, if he’d been completely honest with himself, her assumptions hadn’t been entirely off.</p><p>That fetus, had it lived, would’ve been the bane of his existence, not Morgan, never Morgan. However he couldn’t pretend like he didn’t understand how she’d gotten to the conclusion that she did.</p><p>“…That’s not true and you know it.”</p><p>Morgan doesn’t respond and Tony takes a deep breath, never truly realizing how much pent up anger and hurt he’d harbored against Morgan until now. When she was unconscious, he’d been so consumed with grief and remorse that it was as if he felt nothing else outside of those two emotions.</p><p>But now, the feelings that’d lain dormant, the rage and indignation, had come bubbling to the surface and Tony found it difficult to suppress, especially given Morgan’s indifference to it all, which only served to make matters worse.</p><p>Tony has more to say on the matter, but she’s passed out again, most likely from exhaustion from the amount of energy it took to simply remain conscious. He’s left with his agonizing thoughts yet again and he finds himself inevitably succumbing to his own fatigue, if only to quiet the turmoil that was his mind now.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“…What’d they do to you?”</p><p>Her voice disrupts the maddening silence, thick with tension of unspoken words, unresolved issues and general unrest. Not an unfamiliar feeling at all, though still very much an annoyance nevertheless.</p><p>“The real question is what <em>haven’t</em> they done?” Tony quips in his typical, all-too familiar way of deflecting from actually addressing the issue at hand with jokes and self-depreciating humor.</p><p>His daughter, always too clever for her own good, sees right through it, staring at him with those haunting eyes that still gave him the heebie-jeebies. The whites of her eyes were still crimson, evidence of the broke blood vessels in her eyes and the large, swollen bruise that covered majority of her forehead that showed no signs of going down, at least not any time soon.</p><p>Just looking at his daughter made his heart hurt, an incessant ache inside his chest and a lump subsequently form at the back of his throat. He turns his head away from her direction and instead focuses his attention at the corner of the room. This time around, he rested on the mattress beside her, lying on his belly because it’d been much too painful to lie on his back for obvious reasons.</p><p>An audible gasp sounds from beside him and he quickly turns to see what it was, already on high alert.</p><p>“What? What is it?”</p><p>“Oh my God…”</p><p>Tony follows her gaze and finds her eyes up on his back where he’s pretty sure the skin was ruptured, torn and mutilated. He briefly closes his eyes and clenches his jaw when he feels her small fingers cautiously trail his skin, wincing a couple times when the pads of her fingers would brush over broken skin, but admittedly finding her touch rather soothing despite the persistent pain he found himself in.</p><p>“…Does it hurt?” She asks, breaking through the silence that filled the stuffy air between them.</p><p>“Like hell,” Tony replies wearily. “But I’ll live.”</p><p>“…I’m sorry…”</p><p>Tony blinks, taken aback by her words that seemed so unexpected in that moment, but he appreciates them nonetheless, even if he still harbored unanswered questions.</p><p>“...I <em>did</em> think about you, about how what I did would affect you, but I figured you’d be glad about it, relieved even. After all, you wouldn’t have to fret over my survival anymore.”</p><p>Tony’s heart tore in two just by her words alone. Did Morgan <em>truly</em> believe that? Did she truly believe that was how he felt about her? Tony couldn’t believe it himself, but he had to admit that it made sense. Somehow, someway, Morgan had to justify it in her head that he would somehow be okay with her departure in order to actually go through with it.</p><p>It made Tony sick inside to think Morgan believed she was doing him a favor by attempting suicide. Morgan had never been more wrong in all of her fifteen years of existence.</p><p>“If you would’ve succeeded in your plans to off yourself, it would’ve destroyed me Morgan, in ways I don’t think you could’ve ever understood. If you would’ve never come to, if you’d’ve died Morgan, I would’ve died too. With you. In mind, body and spirit. I wouldn’t have been able to go on, wouldn’t have had the strength to continue fighting because my life line would’ve been gone forever.”</p><p>Morgan’s quiet now, unable to maintain eye contact, but he can clearly make out those quart-sized tears that manage to trickle down her round, puffy cheeks.</p><p>“You’re my daughter Morgan, I love you more than you could ever possibly know, but I wouldn’t have been able to forgive you for doing something like that.”</p><p>“…I thought I was making the right decision, that it was for the best—”</p><p>“Best for whom exactly?” Tony retorts, growing more and more aggravated by the second. “Because as far as I’m concerned, a life without you in isn’t a life worth living.”</p><p>It grows silent between them and Tony eventually shifts his focus back onto the small space at the corner of the room, resting his chin upon his forearms, ignoring the twinge of pain he suddenly feels in his backside.</p><p>“…I wanted that baby,” Morgan hiccups through her quiet sobs several moments later. “I wanted it.”</p><p>“Why?” Tony counters with unmistakable resentment and bitterness in his tone of voice. “Why would you want to hold onto something that came about in such an ugly way? That was never meant to exist in the first place?”</p><p>“Because it was <em>mine!</em>” Morgan snaps. “It came from me and they took it away!”</p><p>“Even if they didn’t, you don’t think it would’ve been selfish to bring someone else into this hellhole? To endure what we’ve endured?”</p><p>Morgan sniffles, unable to answer as more tears spill from her eyes.</p><p>“And besides all of that, it was conceived out of incest. It can’t get worse than that.”</p><p>“So what you’re saying is that you see nothing wrong with what they did to me? I guess in your eyes the end justifies the means.”</p><p>“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”</p><p>“Then what <em>are</em> you saying?” Morgan exclaims. “What exactly are you saying dad? Because whether you choose to acknowledge it or not, it happened. Regardless to how it came about, it meant something to <em>me</em>. It was what we created together and they ripped it away… ripped it out of me in way I’ll never be able to forget…”</p><p>Tony would never truly understand the unsettling attachment Morgan had grown to that fetus in such a short amount of time, but he’d empathized with her nevertheless, because despite how he felt about it all, she hadn’t deserved to be put through yet another traumatic event like that, <em>especially</em> when she hadn’t ended up pregnant without any additional help.</p><p>“…I’m sorry…” Tony murmurs, because it’s all he knows how to say at this point because he has <em>so</em> much to be remorseful for that these are the only two words he could conjure up in attempt to salvage the irrevocable damage he’s directly and indirectly caused his daughter thus far. “…I’m so sorry baby girl…”</p><p>“It’s not your fault,” she replies, resuming the act of tracing the pads of her fingers across his bruised skin. “…It’s not your fault.”</p><p>But it was. It always had been and it always would be.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“It was him.” Morgan blurts out, startling him from his state of drowsiness. “I…It was him. I recognized him. It was Miles…”</p><p>“What?” Tony answers in a gravelly tone of voice as he blinks away the haze. “Morgan—?”</p><p>“The boy I was going out with, Miles Camarillo. He was taunting me, laughing at me while I—”</p><p>“Hold on, slow down a minute,” Tony interjects, shifting a bit in her lap as he feels the droplets of room temperature water from the small towel she used to dab across his back trickle down within the crevices of his ruptured skin. “Take a deep breath.”</p><p>Morgan obeys, though he couldn’t see her face, he could hear her steady breathing, feel it against his rib cage as his upper body lied across her lap.</p><p>“What’re saying exactly?” Tony asks after a few passing moments of silence.</p><p>“I…” Morgan swallows thickly before continuing. “I recognized his voice. I recognized <em>him</em>.”</p><p>“He was the one you told me about? The one you were sneaking around with?”</p><p>“Yes… the woman, too. She looked familiar. I think… I think they’re related. I remember seeing a picture of her in his phone and he told me that she was his cousin.” Tony could sense the distress in her tone of voice as she began to piece certain clues together from her foggy memory. “...Why would he do this to me? W-Why would he… how could he?”</p><p>The questions seemed to be self-exclamatory, but Tony felt the urge to answer them anyway, since he’d remembered those familiar eyes from anywhere, especially after the brutal beating he’d been given after practically forcing Tony to reconcile with his past and all of things and people he left behind in his destructive wake, including his long-lost (alleged) son.</p><p>“…There’s something I need to tell you Morgan… something you deserve to know that will help clarify a lot of things for you that hasn’t made sense.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Morgan asks and he doesn’t need to see her face to know there’s genuine bewilderment there.</p><p>Tony sighs and slips off of her lap, rolling onto his side with a grunt of discontent. Morgan moves, like an automatic reflex to his aid, but he shoos her away.</p><p>“Dad—”</p><p>“I’ve got it.”</p><p>But he doesn’t. He can barely move an inch without grunting in pain. Still, he tries to get from point A to point B, no matter how pathetic he looked attempting to do so, but ends up flat on his face in the same position he started off in.</p><p>Tony doesn’t pull away from his daughter’s cautious embrace as she helps move him across the room onto the tattered mattress to lie onto his belly. Morgan goes to lie beside him, like she always does and he turns his head towards her direction and stares at her for a long moment or what felt like a long moment without words being spoken.</p><p>“…Do you feel like hearing a story?”</p><p>“I always love hearing you’re stories.”</p><p>“Well, I’m not sure you’re going enjoy this one, but you deserve to know anyway.” Morgan frowns at his words while he decides to continue. “…Back in my youth, mid-20s to be exact, I had taken over Stark Industries full-time and began to be heavily involved with the day-to-day processes of operating a fortune 500 company, which was an intimidating experience in and of itself. Sure I had been groomed to be the heir since the day I was born, but nothing could ever compare to the amount of energy and stress that came along with it. Mentally, I wasn’t prepared to take on that type of responsibility and commitment. I was twenty-one and still very much involved with the drugged out, partying ‘til the break of dawn lifestyle when I wasn’t at work. It only got worse after I took over Stark Industries. I had been desperately trying to balance my career and social life and all the stress that came with living up to my father’s expectations.”</p><p>Morgan blinks at him, listening with intent as she always did whenever he was in the mood on sharing stories about what his life had been like before she had come along. Morgan had found great delight in them, in getting to know the person he was before he became somebody’s husband and father, before he became the man she knew him as today.</p><p>“For a while,” Tony continues with a sigh. “I was able to maintain it, find a healthy balance in my career as well as my life outside of being Howard Stark’s son, or at least I thought it was healthy at the time. Looking back, I know now that I was self-medicating. I had been so obsessed with living up to these expectations my father had set for me long before I was even born that I didn’t realize I was heading down a dangerous path of destruction.”</p><p>“For years, it went on and on and <em>on</em>, the drug binges and nonstop partying. It hadn’t interfered with my performance at Stark Industries, so I didn’t stop. I grew arrogant from my ability to be able to fool so many people into believing I was sober, responsible and an upstanding young man with a bright future ahead. No one knew of the man that was battling a drug addiction behind closed doors while living a fruitless, unfulfilling life.” He pauses for a moment and Morgan’s eyes never waver from his as he sorts through his thoughts, taking a deep breath before he continues. “I was a functioning addict, I wasn’t happy and in that era of my life, I was at my lowest point. I involved myself in activities and with people that were unsavory. It’s how I inevitably found myself in the company of Angel Bonilla.”</p><p>“He was known for having some of the best product on the market, from the underworld to the high societies of politicians, CEO’s, judges and every person of power you could think of. We met through a mutual friend and we were like two peas in a pod. He was charismatic and easygoing. It wasn’t really what I expected him to be like when I finally met him face-to-face. But either way, it was during that first encounter that I’d finally sampled his ‘product’ and needless to say, I became hooked, like everyone else had that tried it and couldn’t get enough.”</p><p>“Angel and I kept in contact after that first encounter; I kept coming back for more, inevitably becoming one of his regular clients. One day though, he rang me up and personally invited me to this huge soirée he was throwing on his yacht to celebrate his thirty-ninth birthday. I accepted of course, figuring that I needed a break anyway and what better way to do it than living it up in Puerto Rico with my fabulous supplier.” Tony scoffs at his own ignorance and naiveté at the time. “God, I was such an ignorant, know-it-all prick back then.”</p><p>Morgan giggles at his words and a small, reluctant smile emerges on his face in response as he rolls his eyes in jest.</p><p>“You’re laughing now but you would’ve hated me back then if you’d known me.”</p><p>“Probably,” Morgan giggles even more. “I wish I had though.”</p><p>“I don’t,” Tony replies in a stoic manner, the lightheartedness that briefly filled the air fading swiftly. “I wasn’t the person back then that I am now. I’m not proud of the person I was or the things I did back then.”</p><p>“What did you do? I mean, you were young, who hasn’t made dumb mistakes in their youth? It’s like a rite of passage at this point.”</p><p>“Yes, but, <em>this</em> was different. What I did could’ve easily cost me my life. It’s what inevitably caused me to plunge headfirst into sobriety without ever looking back.”</p><p>“Tell me…” Morgan murmurs and Tony sighs, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stall off the inevitable; the truth from coming out as to why they were here in the first place, why they’d been subjected to so much hell, why they’d been held hostage, and it was all because of him. Only because of him.</p><p>“The soirée that took place on his yacht in the midst of the Caribbean Sea is where I’d first met her.”</p><p>“Who?” Morgan asks in genuine curiosity.</p><p>“Angel Bonilla’s daughter, Isabella Bonilla.” Tony answers. “Angel had introduced me to her as the apple of his eye, the light of his life, and it was only in that moment when I first laid eyes on Isabella Bonilla did I realize what a mistake I made coming to his birthday bash on his private yacht.”</p><p>“Tell me you didn’t.”</p><p>“I did,” Tony confirms with an exasperated sigh. “…I did.”</p><p>“Dad…”</p><p>“I know, but that’s not even the worst of it.” Morgan frowns and Tony briefly closes his eyes before he continues. “Isabella was special to me, <em>very</em> special, she was my first love and I cared for her deeply, but I knew I had no business being in a relationship with her of all people, not only because of our age difference at the time; I was twenty-six while she was seventeen, but also the fact of who her father was. I knew, if it came down to it, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a hit on me if he ever discovered what I was doing with his daughter behind his back.”</p><p>Morgan appears intrigued by this, blinking at him inquisitively as she shifts a bit to move in closer towards him.</p><p>“Did he find out?”</p><p>“Yes,” Tony replies, scratching at his beard and actively ignoring the aches and pains in his back any time he moved. “He did eventually find out, how, I will never know. The man had eyes everywhere so I guess I should’ve figured it would’ve only been a matter of time. But in my addled, coked out brain, I thought I was being discreet and that I wouldn’t get caught.”</p><p>“What did he do to you when he found out?”</p><p>“He banished me from Puerto Rico, said if I ever stepped foot back, that death would inevitably be near.”</p><p>“Wow… so you were never allowed back?”</p><p>“No. He said if I was anybody else he would’ve had me beheaded, but because he had liked me at one point, he bestowed mercy upon me.”</p><p>“And what about Isabella? What happened to her?”</p><p>“I never saw her again because I never came back. We planned on eloping after her eighteenth birthday, but we never got the chance. I was cut off from her through all means of contact and I assume the same happened with her, maybe even worse. But either way, that was the end of what we had.”</p><p>“That’s terrible…”</p><p>“It is…” Tony dreadfully concedes. “It took me years to move on, to reconcile with the fact that my life with her would never come to past. Truthfully, it hurt like nothing else ever had before.”</p><p>“…I’m sorry that happened to you dad…”</p><p>“Don’t be,” Tony replies, turning to face her yet again. “If it would’ve worked out, you wouldn’t be here.”</p><p>“But if it meant that you were happy then…”</p><p>“I <em>am</em> happy Morgan. The family I created and the happiness I found after with your mother, when you were born, it was more than I could ever dream of, more than I deserved, really. I would never trade it for anything in the world. For the first time in my life since that happened, I was truly happy.”</p><p>“Were you?”</p><p>“I was Morgan, I really was.” He pauses again for a moment before he continues. “Morgan, the reason I’m telling you this is because Isabella had apparently tried to reach out to me at some point, with letters and phone calls that I never received to inform me that she’d been with child and that I was the father.”</p><p>Morgan’s eyes widen in shock and Tony swallows thickly in response.</p><p>“It was apparently a baby boy that grew to be a man that I had no clue about until now. The reason I know of this is because he told me so.”</p><p>“When? How? I don’t… I don’t remember that.”</p><p>“You were passed out. It was right after they’d assaulted you. You were knocked out and completely unresponsive. It was when he came down here and revealed to me why I was here, why this was happening. Morgan, that boy you were sneaking around with was him. I realize now that he was more than likely using you to get information on our whereabouts, it’s how they probably knew where we were and what we were doing the day of the ‘accident’ that was obviously done purposely. It wasn’t an accident, it was an ambush.”</p><p>Morgan blinks and a peculiar expression flashes across her face, as if she were in the process of registering his words and what, exactly, they meant.</p><p>“So… what’re you saying? That your long-lost son is exacting revenge on you after all of these years?”</p><p>“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And it’s not only him, but his grandfather as well, Angel Bonilla. I have a feeling he’s the mastermind behind all of this. I bet he’s filled that boy’s head up with so many lies. It explains why he seems to hate me so much. I mean, I understand where it comes from, but I would’ve remembered if Isabella tried to contact me. She wouldn’t have kept something as big as a pregnancy from me. If she did try to contact me, it was blocked by something or someone. Either way, her messages never reached me and I have an inkling that was done intentionally.”</p><p>“And you’re saying the boy I’ve been going out with was… was my half-brother?” Morgan exclaims.</p><p>“Alleged half-brother,” Tony interjects.</p><p>“This is crazy.”</p><p>“I know, but it’s not entirely impossible, unfortunately. Something like this is right up Angel’s alley. I should’ve seen something like this coming. I was stupid to think he’d actually let me go after what I’d done, on top of Isabella’s untimely death. It’s probably what sent him over the edge.”</p><p>“Isabella died?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony nods solemnly. “Apparently due to childbirth…”</p><p>Morgan had a funny look on her face as she rolled onto her back, gazing up at the low-rise ceiling thoughtfully.</p><p>Tony desperately desires to know what she’s thinking about, what’s going through that head of hers, though he doesn’t ask and instead allows the silence to slowly encompass them, allowing the newfound revelation to marinate in her mind for a bit.</p><p>“…You could die from giving birth?”</p><p>Tony turns to look at her and her eyes are still averted away from his, staring up at the light bulbs that hang from above, twitching every so often.</p><p>“Yes, it can happen, more often than it should, actually.”</p><p>“That’s… scary. I never… that never even crossed my mind as a possibility of happening...”</p><p>When Tony reaches a hand out to brush against the side of her face, she turns to face him and those eyes, those hauntingly beautiful eyes are on him yet again. And for a moment he gets slightly choked up under her intense gaze, his throat feels dry and his poor old heart thumps against his chest at an alarming rate, at a speed that makes it feel as if it will explode out of his chest at any given moment.</p><p>“…The reason we’re here, the reason we’re going through this is because of me, because of my past and the despicable things I’ve done. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated my guts.”</p><p>Her hand comes up to close around his own that still rests against her jaw, moving to leave a chaste kiss to the palm of his hand.</p><p>“I could never hate you…”</p><p>“You should.”</p><p>“I won’t. I never will. I love you too much to ever truly hate you, no matter how many times you’ve hurt my feelings.”</p><p>Tony briefly closes his eyes and clenches his jaw as he gazes at her with unadulterated exhaustion.</p><p>“...You shouldn’t love me as much as you do — the <em>way</em> that you do. It’s not healthy and it won’t be beneficial to you in the long run...”</p><p>“I don’t care,” Morgan replies, inching her body closer towards him. “I still don’t blame you for this. It’s not your fault.”</p><p>Morgan moves in closer towards him, so close he could feel her warmth radiating off of her skin. She’s cautious with where she touches him, leaning in and brushing her nose against his.</p><p>“You were collateral damage in all of this. I don’t understand how you aren’t upset about that.”</p><p>“I am upset about it, but not at you. You want me to be because you believe it will somehow ease your conscious, but I’m not and it won’t.”</p><p>Tony immediately falls silent because he’d known that deep down; her assertions are correct. He’d wanted Morgan to go on an emotional tirade at his revelation, wanted her to be so enraged that she would punch him in the face and break his nose, wanted so desperately for her to hate him.</p><p>But she didn’t and he doesn’t know why he was surprised by it. Morgan didn’t have a hateful bone in her body. She was a lot like Pepper; loving, compassionate and empathetic. Morgan loved him dearly, adored him and cherished him despite everything.</p><p>And it was also in that moment did he realize his suspicions had been correct. The love his daughter had fostered for him had stopped being innocent and platonic long ago and had warped into something quite complex and profound, something that went skin deep, something that latched onto her blood cells and became a part of her DNA. It was dangerous, disturbing, primitive and repulsive.</p><p>But there was something about it that was also enchanting and oddly endearing. A large part of him loathed the fact that he could find sense in it all, peace within the madness. What the hell was wrong with him? What the hell <em>wasn’t</em> wrong with him?</p><p>He couldn’t help but chuckle at the cruel irony of it all.</p><p>“Loving me at this point is like being fucked with a knife. Why would you want to subject yourself to something like that?”</p><p>Morgan shrugs, reaching a hand out to trace the outline of his features with her index finger.</p><p>“Maybe I like the feeling. Maybe I’d rather the feeling of being fucked with a knife than to stop feeling at all. Once I stop feeling anything is when I’ll officially be dead inside and I’m not sure that’s something you would want to happen.”</p><p>Tony feels a painful burn in his chest at her words as he leans into her touch as she rakes the tips of her nails through his scalp, casually tugging at the silver-gray strands of hair.</p><p>“…I would lose my ever-loving mind if I ever lost you Momo, more than I already have.”</p><p>A ghost of a smile graces her face and she’s beautiful, poignantly beautiful, the realization makes something churn inside his belly and he isn’t sure if it’s from repugnance or delight. Most likely a combination of both if Tony had to guess.</p><p>She then cranes her neck to pepper his face with gentle, loving kisses; from the bridge of his nose, to his left cheek bone, to his jaw and finally his lips.</p><p>Like the weak man he is, he melts into the tender kiss to his lips, melts into the softness of her lips, the sweetness behind the kiss, the unadulterated love in the gentle nips of her teeth and the swipes of her tongue as he opens up for her like he always does, grunting when he feels her tongue slide across his.</p><p>Morgan’s fingers are in his hair and her tongue in his mouth and as detestable as this should’ve been for him, it wasn’t. It was anything but. He hated that he loved it so much, that he loved the way she made him feel in spite of their horrendous circumstances, but most of all: he <em>hated</em> that loved her in the way that he did, that he could <em>not</em> shake it, that he’d grown obsessed with her in a way that was rather disturbing and couldn’t have been healthy, especially as her father.</p><p>He could never openly admit that to her, even if he’d shown it to her more times than one, he could never bring himself to admit it because no matter how good she made him feel, he knew it was wrong, knew <em>he</em> was wrong and that what they were engaging in — blatant incest — was wrong. And it would never <em>not</em> be wrong. And there would never be a way to justify it or make sense of it. Therefore, Tony would always end up stuck in this seemingly endless and frustrating merry-go-round of conflicting emotions of what felt right versus what he knew to be right. And it’d felt like such a blur these days — any semblance of morality or virtue that is. It inevitably evaporated once they’d ended up in such a rotten, hopeless place.</p><p>Morgan’s soft, girlish moans bring him back down to earth, back to reality, and he opens his eyes, pulling away from their impassioned kiss to lovingly gaze down at her and there’s a fire in her eyes, a familiar glint he’d seen before whenever they were upon him. He’d seen it when he’d taken her virginity, when he didn’t want to acknowledge that things had changed between them, when he suspected something dangerous had been unleashed and exposed for him to see, and it frightened him more than anything else ever has and that was saying <em>a lot</em>, all things considered.</p><p>Tony’s movements were limited, he was still very much sore and in such unspeakable pain. But, after shifting this way and that, he’d found a more suitable position; resting his body atop of Morgan’s. He worried his weight would crush her, but she insisted that she liked the weight of his body on top of her, especially when she could feel his budding erection pressing between her thighs.</p><p>They kissed. And kissed. And kissed. And <em>kissed</em>. Until they’d grown weary, their kisses becoming slower, uncoordinated and lazy. Tony left lingering kisses down her neck and even went as far as leaning down to suckle her nipples until they hardened before eventually resting his head down against her chest, nuzzling his face in the small space between her breasts and sighing contentedly.</p><p>“Love you, baby doll.” Tony mutters out, just before dozing off completely.</p>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. 21. The Language of Limbo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“I just pretend that I’m in the dark<br/>I don’t regret ‘cause my heart can’t take a loss<br/>I’d rather be so oblivious<br/>I’d rather be with you<br/>When I look at you<br/>In your eyes<br/>I see there’s something burning inside you<br/>In your eyes<br/>I know it hurts to smile but you try to<br/>You always try to hide the pain<br/>You always know just what to say<br/>I always look the other way<br/>I’m blind, I’m blind<br/>In your eyes, you lie, but I don’t let it define you”<em></em></em>
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          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“She looks a lot like Tony. Goddamn are his genes strong.”</p><p>Pepper giggles in response despite the apprehension she harbors within as she glances at James who sits beside her, cradling three month old Sabrena in his arms, gazing down at her with adoring eyes.</p><p>“She does, doesn’t she?”</p><p>“Yeah, she resembles Morgan when she was a baby, even down to her mannerisms. It’s uncanny.” James chuckles as he wiggles around the index finger Sabrena’s tiny fingers latched onto with mild interest.</p><p>Pepper purses her lips and looks away, still in disbelief over the fact that it was nearing the one year anniversary since Tony and Morgan’s death. It was still unreal for Pepper that so much time had gone by; that an entire year had passed that she spent as a widow and a childless mother. It was unbelievable how so much could change in a matter of a year.</p><p>She startles a bit when James reaches a hand out to touch her arm, effectively bringing her out of her reverie of endless, mind-numbing thoughts.</p><p>“Hey,” James murmurs out softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”</p><p>“James,” Pepper interjects, eyeing him purposefully. “You and I both know you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Morgan was your niece and you two were very close. You can talk about her all you like, I don’t mind.”</p><p>“But if talking about her makes you tense up like you just did, I’d prefer not to.”</p><p>“That wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m not the only one grieving a loss here. We <em>both</em> lost our loved ones, not just me.”</p><p>James purses his lips and glances down at the cooing baby girl in his arms, a halfhearted smile gracing his face as he wipes away the tears that managed to leak from Sabrena’s eyes with a cloth.</p><p>“…I was just thinking about how quickly time has passed. It feels like it was only yesterday when I found out I’d lost them simultaneously. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel real…” she pauses for a moment, then turns to James. “I know I wouldn’t have made it this far with my sanity in-tact if it weren’t for you.”</p><p>“Pepper, I’ve only done what any decent person would have.”</p><p>“You’ve done <em>a lot</em> more than that and you know it,” Pepper smirks, nudging him in the arm playfully. “You’re modest to a fault. You deserve way more credit than you give yourself.”</p><p>Just before James has the opportunity to respond, the front desk receptionist calls forth her name, attracting their attention almost immediately.</p><p>“Welp, that’s our cue.” James quips as they arise from their seats and make their way to the front desk.</p><p>“Hello, Mrs. Stark. Dr. Bonilla is ready for you. Nurse Jackie will show you the way.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Pepper offers a polite smile before turning on her heel and following behind Nurse Jackie with James in tow.</p><p>“She’s gotten so big since the last time I saw her. How old is she now?”</p><p>“Three months.” Pepper answers.</p><p>“Wow! Time truly does fly. She’s adorable by the way.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Pepper smiles as they enter into their designated room where Sabrena’s physical checkup will take place.</p><p>“Alrighty then! Let’s get started, shall we?” Nurse Jackie announces as she ambles over to the sink to wash her hands before slipping on a pair of blue latex gloves and rolling a tray full of differing instruments near. “First things first, Happy New Years to you both and secondly, before I get started on anything, are there any questions or concerns that you may have in regards to the development of your baby girl? That way I can pass it along to Dr. Bonilla so she will be sure to include them in the thorough exam.”</p><p>Pepper bites the inside of her cheek, offering up a subtle nod of her head before eventually speaking.</p><p>“…There is a few things I’ve noticed that have concerned me…”</p><p>“I’m all ears Mrs. Stark—”</p><p>“It’s Pepper… Pepper is fine.”</p><p>“Pepper,” the nurse corrects. “I’m all ears.”</p><p>Pepper glances at James who still sat beside her cradling a cooing Sabrena before she turns back to the nurse to divulge all of the things that had her on edge since she’d brought her daughter home from the hospital.</p><p>“…Sabrena’s eyes, they often get oddly watery and it’s not from excessive crying, she doesn’t cry very often unless she’s hungry or sleepy, but when I’m breastfeeding, excessive tears will sometimes leak from her eyes and I find myself constantly wiping them away. It’s the strangest thing. And her pupils, I’m not sure if you can see them, but her pupils are white. They weren’t like that before, but they are now.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Nurse Jackie asks inquisitively as she reaches for a nearby notepad and pin. “When did you start noticing this?”</p><p>“Not too long ago. In fact, I discussed my concerns with Dr. Bonilla so it should already be in her files. I never saw anything like it before.”</p><p>Nurse Jackie hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down onto the notepad in her hands. “Is there anything else that you’ve noticed that may be cause for concern?”</p><p>“Well, there is one more thing…” she trails off thoughtfully. “Her eyelids swell every so often. Initially I thought it to be an allergic reaction of some sort to my breast milk or the material of the blankets I wrap her up in, so I changed her blankets and inquired about formula, but Dr. Bonilla insisted it wasn’t what was causing the swelling after I expressed my concerns about it. She recommended I use Cortizone for the swelling, but it’s only gotten worse…”</p><p>“Okay,” the young nurse replies after a long moment of silence as she presumably finishes off her notes. “I will make sure to run this by Dr. Bonilla before she begins the thorough exam.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“It’s what I’m here for,” the nurse smiles as she arises from her seat. “Now that we’ve gotten the questions and concerns out of the way, we shall begin.”</p><p>The exam was brief, the nurse had checked Sabrena’s pulse, monitored her heartbeat and lungs, and everything seemed as it should be, that is until the nurse checked Sabrena’s vision. The nurse was eerily quiet throughout with an unsettling glint in her eyes as she curtly concluded the exam.</p><p>“Is everything okay?”</p><p>“As far as I can tell,” the nurse replies tersely. “Dr. Bonilla should be in here shortly.”</p><p>Pepper immediately turned to face James once she heard the click of the door shut.</p><p>“…Something’s wrong.”</p><p>“What? She didn’t say that.”</p><p>“She didn’t have to; it was written all over her face.”</p><p>“You don’t think you’re jumping to conclusions? At least wait until Alejandra performs the thorough exam before driving yourself crazy with assumptions based on theories rather than factual information.”</p><p>Pepper took heed to his words as best as she could, but a nagging feeling within that something wasn’t quite right wouldn’t leave her be.</p><p>Dr. Bonilla arrives minutes later and after the greetings and pleasantries were exchanged, the thorough exam began and it is only then that Pepper began to question whether her paranoia that something was amiss was a result of overthinking or simply a mother’s intuition.</p><p>By the end of the exam, she receives her answer.</p><p>“I believe she’s suffering from a vision impairment of some sort.”</p><p>“Vision impairment?” Pepper questions.</p><p>“Blindness,” Dr. Bonilla answers rather bluntly. “Unfortunately, she displays many of the symptoms despite her age. Although infant eye exams are typically done by their optometrists when most babies are around six months, I think we can make an exception given the special set of circumstances, just to err on the side of caution.”</p><p>Pepper becomes sort of numb after that. She goes on autopilot mode; a coping mechanism she’s picked up along the way when she didn’t want anyone to see the turmoil brewing within.</p><p>But James did, he <em>always</em> seemed able to see past whatever mask she slipped on to evade endless questions she hadn’t the energy to deal with.</p><p>“I know it’s easier said than done, but please don’t stress yourself out about this Pepper. There’s nothing you could’ve done different. Sometimes… things like this just happen.”</p><p>Alejandra’s words brought her no sense of comfort, not the way they should have at least. Pepper did in fact blame herself for this, just like she did with Tony and Morgan.</p><p>She was sick as a dog throughout the duration of this pregnancy. Surely, there was something wrong with <em>her</em>, something <em>she</em> didn’t do right that caused this, that caused her daughter to wound up in this predicament, to be born into this world without ever having the ability see all of its beauty and all of its wreckage it had to offer, and it was <em>her</em> fault, like everything else was. It had to be. It was. It is.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Pepper could hardly sleep for the next two nights, night terrors plagued her unconscious mind and they were all about baby Sabrena, about Tony and Morgan as well.</p><p>Images and flashes of their bodies being burned alive, searing flesh peeling from their bones, their hair sheading from their skulls, and their skin appearing translucent as the flames overtook every inch, and then the wails of Sabrena, cradled in Morgan’s arms with no eyeballs, only two dark hollow spaces that Pepper swore she could see the infernos in.</p><p>There were different variations of these night terrors she’d been having, but they seemed to follow a similar pattern of her feeling as helpless as she did in her waking life, of being unable to help her family, save them somehow from their suffering, to save her daughters and husband, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t for Tony and Morgan and Pepper didn’t believe she could save Sabrena from this, no matter how much she wanted to.</p><p>When the day of the appointment with the optometrist arrived, she attended it alone, not necessarily because she wanted to, but because she felt deep down that this was something she needed to do by herself, despite James’ insistence on being present, though she didn’t tell him this directly, she didn’t want to burden him anymore with her shit.</p><p>James didn’t view it that way at all, but she sometimes did, despite his constant reassurances that Sabrena was his niece and that he cared about her well-being, which Pepper didn’t doubt for one second, but she realized that she was becoming too dependent on James, in ways she knew weren’t healthy, just like the feelings she’d developed at some point throughout the year between Sabrena’s checkups and James slipping in and out of the uncle and father role in her life so effortlessly it was almost scary.</p><p>Pepper felt ashamed, but mostly pathetic for allowing herself to even get to this point, despite the fact that she was confident in her ability to have disguised her feelings well, she still thought it to be inappropriate, <em>especially</em> given the circumstances. It was wrong. But it did make sense, they’d both lost people that meant the world to them and they both shared a love for the lives lost. It was natural to find kinship in that, bonding and grieving together.</p><p>Anybody in her position would’ve developed the same unrequited feelings, because James had a good heart, a good soul, and overall, he was a good person. A rare find these days. And she couldn’t deny that there were also parts of his personality that reminded her so much of Tony’s, it was almost eerie. They could be so different in some aspects and so alike in others. Pepper found comfort in the familiarity of it all, but also the contrast. It was odd.</p><p>Pepper suspected that her mother had sensed it, which is why she’d said what she said at the hospital only hours after Sabrena was born and if that was her mother’s way of deterring her away from her object of desire, it worked, despite her mother’s methods that left <em>a lot</em> to be desired.</p><p>James was her deceased husband’s best friend who was honoring Tony by looking out for her and his three month old daughter, that’s all there was to it and all there would ever be, and Pepper was fine with that. She certainly wasn’t in the right frame of mind to even think about reentering the dating world, especially with James of all people and so soon after Tony’s death. The anniversary of his and Morgan’s death was inching closer and closer, just as her birthday was, and Pepper wasn’t looking forward to it at all.</p><p>She briefly wondered if she could arrange for Sabrena to spend the night at her grandmother’s while she drowned herself in red wine until she wouldn’t be able to walk straight, much less remember her own name or the life she used to possess long before it all fell apart within a blink of an eye.</p><p>“Mrs. Stark, we’re ready for you.”</p><p>Pepper nods and scoops her three month old up into her arms and follows the receptionist down the long hallway and into the room the examination would take place.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“I must say, she’s one of the best babies I’ve ever had the pleasure of examining. Most of the babies I perform examinations on get fussy or squeamish within minutes of beginning and mind you, these kids are six months and older, but this little trooper here blew through it like a breeze.”</p><p>Pepper was unfazed by the doctor’s praises of her daughter’s well-behaved demeanor throughout it all, all she wants to know is whether she will be blind for the rest of her life or not, whether or not she will ever know what her mother looks like, or her father and older sister, if she could still live a long, healthy and happy life and if there was anything she could’ve done to prevent something like this from happening in the first place.</p><p>“From my understanding and from the data I’ve collected, this little angel will most likely never see the light of day, she is indeed blind, but that doesn’t mean her life will be unfulfilling, it just means that she will be relying on her other senses to compensate for it, like her hearing, sense of smell, touch, and taste. It will grow stronger the older she gets and she will be able to identify her surroundings in order to navigate wherever she may be in life. Those senses will operate as her eyes for the rest of her life.”</p><p>“…Oh…” is all she’s able to muster out in that moment.</p><p>“I know it’s overwhelming, but it will get much easier once you truly get the hang of things. In fact, there’s this program for parents of blind newborn babies that I recommend to all of my patients in similar situations. It’s a service that provides early intervention, counseling, and parental education. The program assists infants with visual impairments in the areas of cognitive and emotional development, sensory awareness byway of experiential learning all the way up until the age of five. From what my patients have told me, it’s helped them evade a lot of the stress that they would have been otherwise subjugated to had they not been introduced to the program in the first place.”</p><p>Pepper nods while the doctor continues talking. In the back of her mind, she thinks about getting a second opinion on Sabrena’s condition. It was something she always did when it came to the matters of health, but Alejandra had personally recommended this optometrist to her for Sabrena, so he had to be decent at what he did for a living, at the very least.</p><p>By the end of the exam, Pepper decides to get a second opinion on Sabrena’s condition anyway, just to err on the side of caution. She convinces herself that it has nothing to do with holding out hope that things would turn out different and that her intentions are to make sure her daughter is receiving top notch care, instead of hoping for a drastically different outcome than the one she was consistently getting thus far.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe you went to all the top ten best ranked optometrists in the country.”</p><p>“I had to be sure.”</p><p>“Well, now you know for sure because they’ve all said the exact same thing.” James sighs and sets some of the paperwork down onto the coffee table. “The fact of the matter is that Sabrena is blind. It’s what she will always be for the rest of her life. This doesn’t have to be a roadblock for her if you don’t make it out to be one for her before she’s old enough to take her first steps.”</p><p>“I’m not making an issue out of it James; I just wanted to be sure her diagnosis was correct.”</p><p>“Okay. So, now that we know what the situation is, what do you plan on doing next?”</p><p>“I don’t know!” She snaps. "I don’t... I don’t know...”</p><p>“Look,” James says after a moment of silence, his tone of voice soft and gentle and patient. It succeeds in gently assuaging away her frustration, for the moment at least. “I’m not trying to grill you, I know this came out of a complete left field, but this isn’t something we can’t work with. I actually have a cousin that’s blind; she lives in Scottsdale, career as a psychologist and happily married with four children. She lives a rather comfortable and content life as a part-time housewife and career woman. The thing is, she never allowed herself to be defined by her inability to see. In fact, she used it to her advantage and it gave her a peculiar drive that’s led to her success. She was always outsmarting the people that underestimated her because of her blindness. Other people seen it as a handicap while she regarded it as her meal ticket to achieve bigger and better things, and that’s because she had parents, from a very young age, that instilled in her that her blindness wasn’t something to be ashamed of or to be viewed as a blemish. It made her special. I can only imagine how she would’ve turned out had she been brought up by parents that seen her as something to be fixed or cured rather than a human being with hopes and dreams that don’t have to be dashed on account of something like this. Sabrena could turn out just like my cousin; a beautiful, successful young woman that’s lived a fascinating and fulfilling life. I <em>want</em> that for Sabrena. I know you want that for her too.”</p><p>“…It’s all I want for her,” Pepper murmurs and her voice cracks anyways despite her hushed tone of voice as she gazes up at James through nearly blurred vision. “It’s all I want for her James; you have to believe me when I say that I do. I really do.”</p><p>“I know that you do, I know.” James consoles as she bursts into a fit of tears.</p><p>“I love Sabrena, I really do, but she wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t supposed to happen—”</p><p>“But she <em>is</em> here and this <em>is</em> happening. You have to make peace with this or else this is going to negatively affect not only Sabrena, but your relationship with her and the way she will view herself as she grows. You can’t teach her to fully love and accept herself for how she is when her own mother is still struggling to. She will resent you for it. I know that’s not what you want but…”</p><p>Pepper nods, sniffling as she rubs her nose and blinks back several tears before they had time to escape. As much as she didn’t want to hear it in that moment, she knew James was right, like he usually was in that way that Pepper found annoying at this point but loveable all the same.</p><p>She appreciated the way he always seemed to know how to handle her the right way at the right time. At times, he could be soft and gentle to her and then he would be stern and plain-spoken when the situation required it. Pepper required a mix of both and James understood that, just as Tony had.</p><p>“…I think therapy is going to be my New Year’s resolution for 2019.” Pepper says in a half-joking, half-serious way, but James doesn’t laugh along with her, only gazes at her with solemn eyes as she eventually crumples into the leather sofa as Sabrena naps across from them in her downstairs crib.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Pepper drops Sabrena off at her mother’s the day of the anniversary of Tony and Morgan’s death which happened to be the same day as her birthday.</p><p>James tries to make the best of it by taking her out for dinner and dessert afterwards and a casual stroll through the vibrant city bustling with activity, joyous laughter and warm bodies crowded together to keep warm.</p><p>“Tony was such a meticulous bastard when it came to planning birthday’s and other special occasions, but it was always a whole different level of crazy when it came to planning your birthday bashes. The perfectionist in him popped out every single time without fail.” James laughs at the memory in a reminiscent manner. “Your happiness was the very core of Tony’s being. He<em> lived </em>for finding ways to make you the happiest woman on earth.”</p><p>“After being married for this long, he should’ve known that I’ve never required grand gestures to make me happy. He was enough.”</p><p>“It was a lot sometimes, <em>he</em> could be a lot sometimes, but he always meant well.”</p><p>“It was nothing in comparison to how he doted on Morgan in all ways there is for a father to dote on his only daughter.”</p><p>James laughs, shaking his head in a reminiscent manner.</p><p>“Yeah… remember when he surprised her with that filly for her seventh birthday?”</p><p>“Oh God yes, he rented it for her for about a week, but after her birthday I made him take it back. Morgan was only seven-years old; a horse no matter how small was too much responsibility for her at that age.” Pepper’s smile dims a bit as she thinks back on that incident that took place nearly ten years ago.</p><p>Morgan had been so upset when she found out the ‘pretty horsie’ that went by the name of Misty wasn’t hers to keep. She cried and threw a huge tantrum over it. A spoiled little girl if Pepper ever seen one, but Tony was able to quell her hiccupping cries by placing her on his lap and promising her that he would let her visit the horse named Misty on certain days of the week after school if she had no other obligations already and if she continued being the good girl they always knew her to be. It worked and Morgan had gone on her happily merry way, content in her little heart on the arrangement that’d been made.</p><p>The bond between those two was nearly unshakable, Pepper almost envied it at times, but most of all, she found it endearing. She’d been the same way growing up, much closer to her own father than she ever was to her mother, unfortunately. Pepper hoped it wasn’t a cycle repeating itself. She didn’t like to think of herself anything like her mother in any aspect, but Pepper wondered about it every so often, more than she cared to, actually.</p><p>“Who would’ve thought Morgan would discover her love for horses as a result of Tony taking her to visit that filly that grew to be such a beautiful mare? There was a time she loved riding more than anything. You remember that?”</p><p>“How could I forget?” Pepper quips, reaching for her cooling hot coco with a reminiscent smile on her lips painted crimson. “From the ages of eleven to fourteen, horse riding took up majority of her life at that time. It brought her so much joy and she acquired so many new friends because of it.” Pepper pauses for a moment when the image of her daughter’s flushed, anguished face wet with tears flashed in her mind when her life as an equestrian came to an abrupt end. “And then she fell for the first time and came out of it with a head concussion and Tony never allowed her near a horse again. It crushed her in ways I don’t even think he realized at the time.”</p><p>Pepper recollects that era quite vividly. All it took was for one accident to occur and Tony was cutting her off from horse riding cold turkey. Morgan begged him to reconsider, even came to her several times pleading with her to talk to him, get him to see that riding was her passion and something she couldn’t live without.</p><p>But Tony had his mind made up. Pepper, in all honesty, couldn’t blame him one bit. The accident was scary and traumatic, and knowing Tony, there was no chance in hell he would allow something like that to ever happen again, not if he could control it, even if Morgan would resent him because of it, which she did.</p><p>And although Tony’s concerns were 100% valid, Pepper couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that part of his decision was due to the fact that Morgan had begun to pull away a bit once horse riding took up majority of the space in her life leaving less time to spend with him in a way he’d grown accustomed to over the years. The accident was the scapegoat he’d needed to pull the plug on it like he’d been itching to do for longer than he’d ever truly admit.</p><p>But his decision had pushed Morgan further away, the farthest she’s ever been from them, from Tony, and it was when Pepper had begun to suspect that Morgan’s rebellious stage had begun. Pepper had hoped she was wrong, but all the signs pointed to all the things she didn’t want to see. She’d informed Tony about it, about the times Morgan’s clothes reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. But, much like her, he didn’t want to see it.</p><p>“I think around the time he forced her to quit after the accident was the only time I ever seen Tony and Morgan at odds with each other. The tension between them was so strong; one wouldn’t even think they were related.”</p><p>“It took Morgan a long while to recover from that entire situation. In fact, I don’t think she ever truly did, but she could never stay angry at Tony for too long, even with something like that, but I think she did eventually forgive him, despite the hurt that still lingered from his decision. They were on better terms before—”</p><p>“Mrs. Stark?”</p><p>Pepper startles, glancing up at the young man that stands near the small table she and James occupied outside of a family-owned tea and coffee shop situated in the heart of the busy city. The weather was relatively nice and the sky was clear of any clouds. The smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air that reminded Pepper of awakening early weekday mornings to the smell of her father brewing his coffee just before work. The memory, no matter how insignificant it may have been, brought her a sense of comfort and made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.</p><p>But the feeling almost immediately evaporated when she locked eyes with those familiar yet woeful eyes that peered down at her in a way that caused goosebumps to form on the open parts of her skin.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, my name is Miles Camarillo, we met at the memorial, I was a close friend of Morgan’s…”</p><p>“I remember.” Pepper replies tersely. “You were the boy my daughter was sneaking around with behind my back when she wasn’t even allowed to date.”</p><p>An awkward silence ensues and James clears his throat, attracting the attention of the young man.</p><p>“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”</p><p>“It’s nice to see you again Miles, how’ve you been?”</p><p>“As well as one could be,” Miles sighs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather coat. “It’s been a year now, but sometimes it feels like it just happened yesterday.”</p><p>“I know that feeling all too well,” James replies conversationally. “You have to take it one day at a time, as cliché as that sounds; it’s true, at least for me that is.”</p><p>Miles nods solemnly and turns to Pepper who remains silent and her eyes avoidant of the boy’s.</p><p>“Again, I didn’t mean to interrupt or to be rude in any way, I just... I recognized you and wanted to say hello, so… hello.” He gives an awkward wave and an equally awkward smile. “And… um… goodbye.”</p><p>“…A bit standoffish don’t you think?” James says moments after the boy scurries away, disappearing into the crowd of bodies wondering about with a flushed face.</p><p>“Something about that kid gives me the skivvies.” Pepper visibly shivers.</p><p>“And that kid is the same kid Morgan would not stop gushing about, how great he was and how different he was from the other boys at her school.”</p><p>“Why didn’t she tell us? I mean, I know why she didn’t tell <em>me</em>, even if I wanted her to, she was always closer to Tony, but she didn’t even clue him in. I think that was the biggest shock for me.”</p><p>“Really? I mean, we both know how Tony could be when it came to Morgan. As laidback as he could be in one moment, he could be just as overprotective in the next. Boys would be no exception to that.”</p><p>“I guess,” Pepper sighs, shivering yet again as she pulls her sweater closer to her.</p><p>Wordlessly, James moves to wrap his coat around her shivering frame and they resume their reminiscing of the past, back when things were much simpler than they were now. Despite the realization, the day went better than she expected it to and she had James to thank for that because she would’ve probably ended up a drunken mess, crying her eyes out while lounging in bed all day feeling sorry for herself and mourning the loss of her late husband and daughter, wondering how she’d ended up with such terrible luck.</p><p>Instead, the night concludes with her head resting on James’ shoulder babysitting a glass of half-drunken champagne.</p><p>“…Alejandra must hate me.” Pepper giggles, already feeling a bit buzzed from the alcohol as she rubs at her eyes a bit before taking another sip of her champagne.</p><p>“Why?” He frowns.</p><p>“I’m always taking you away from her, that’s why.”</p><p>“No you’re not. And even if you were, she understands. I’ve made these things clear in the beginning so there’s no animosity there.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t’ve even had to do that.”</p><p>“Pepper—”</p><p>“Sabrena and I take up way too much space in your life.”</p><p>“How could you say something like that? Sabrena’s my niece. I love her. The time I spend with her is because I want to, not because I feel I have to. And you’re more than just Tony’s wife to me Pepper; I’m not doing any of this solely because of that fact. I thought you knew that by now.”</p><p>“Then why <em>are</em> you doing all of this?” Pepper asks as she sits up to face him. The question sounds odd to ask, but she has to know, no matter how ridiculous she looks in the process.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re asking me something like this.” James grumbles in unadulterated annoyance and indignation. “It’s because I care Pepper. Ever think of that? I genuinely care. You’re my friend, what you went through, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. No one deserves to lose both their child and spouse in the way that you did. No one could’ve seen something like this happening, but it did happen and we’re dealing with it the best way we know how to, the only way we know how to.”</p><p>She tries not to cry, because at this point, she’s tired of it, has grown increasingly <em>sick</em> to her stomach of it, but she does anyway, in spite of it. She breaks down into tears. James plucks the glass of champagne from her fingertips, probably figuring she’d had enough and sets it onto the coffee table along with his own before pulling her in for a bear hug to which she gladly accepts.</p><p>“C’mere, it’s okay, I’ve got you…” he murmurs as he brushes his fingers through her hair in a way she found calming.</p><p>She closes her eyes and allows the tears to fall, one by one, probably staining his dress shirt in the process, but he didn’t seem to mind. He never did whenever she got like this.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she manages to get out between sobs. “I’m such a mood killer.”</p><p>“No you’re not. You’re grieving. It’s normal. I understand, believe me.”</p><p>“I love you James, you know that?”</p><p>“Only been told about a gazillion times already, but I’m not mad about it.” He chuckles. “Oh and before I forget, your birthday gift is in my trunk.”</p><p>“James, I said you didn’t have to—”</p><p>“I wanted to. Now hush and let me go get it.”</p><p>Pepper giggles, wiping her face wet with tears with a napkin, sniffling as she finishes off her champagne just as James returns with something rather large and square in shape.</p><p>“What in the world?”</p><p>“Open it.”</p><p>“But the wrapping paper looks so pretty.”</p><p>“I’m hoping you’ll like what’s underneath a lot better.”</p><p>Pepper smiles and begins to unwrap her present, tearing it away like a small child would on Christmas day, until her eyes fell on a vibrant yet colorful portrait.</p><p>“Oh my God... James… this is… this is beautiful. How did... how did you?—”</p><p>“You fell asleep with Sabrena in your arms. It was Kodak moment. I took a picture and showed it to the painter and the rest is history.”</p><p>“Wow…” Pepper breathes, admiring the handiwork and the crispness of the portrait, how the colors seem to pop in a way that she found mesmerizing. She remembered what she had on that day and it wasn’t anything spectacular, typical maternity attire, but the way it was depicted in this portrait made it appear as if it came straight off the runway.</p><p>The attention to detail was something worth noting as well. Pepper smiled at the small patch of curly brown hair taking shape on Sabrena’s head as she napped alongside her mother. A beautiful moment shared between a mother and daughter captured in such an exquisite painting and it had Pepper near tears yet again.</p><p>“…Do you?— ”</p><p>“I love it.” Pepper answers with a bright smile despite the lump forming in her throat. “I think I know exactly where I’m going to hang this.” She then gazes up at him with glassy eyes and a sad, but warm smile. “…Thank you James.”</p><p>He simply offers up a sincere smile and wink in return as he raises his half-empty champagne glass in toast.</p><p>“Happy Birthday.”</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. 22. Sinking Ships</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>“Feels like I’m falling<br/>Into a world<br/>I can’t control<br/>I hear it calling<br/>Down in my soul<br/>Grippin’ my bones<br/>It won’t let go<br/>Wake me up<br/>Won’t you wake me up?<br/>Caught in a bad dream<br/>Feels like I’m frozen<br/>Nowhere to run, from here<br/>These walls are closing<br/>Closing me in<br/>Wearing me thin, with fear”<em></em></em>
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    <p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The return of the greyhounds had become a regular occurrence as well as the violent assaults and countless acts of sodomy.</p><p>Tony was mounted, sodomized and sexually assaulted repeatedly. Just as he was beginning to believe his new lot in life couldn’t get any more fucked up than it already was, he was always proven utterly and thoroughly wrong in the most dehumanizing ways possible. The only silver lining in any of it was the fact that Morgan barely witnessed any of his assaults, not because she was asleep or passed out from exhaustion, but because he’d begged their assailants to have her sedated, just so she wouldn’t bear witness to his degradation, so she wouldn’t have to live with memories or images of him being mounted and sodomized by those ferocious greyhounds.</p><p>Tony convinced himself that he’d wanted her to be unconscious throughout it all solely for her own peace of mind and also to salvage whatever positive image she had left of him as her father. But deep down, he’d known it was because he was rightfully ashamed, disgusted with himself, and he didn’t want Morgan to see him the way he saw himself, didn’t want her to see him dehumanized in such a repulsive way. It was mortifying for him and he found himself tossing his pride aside (what was left of it that is) and <em>begged </em>for them to sedate her, that he would do <em>whatever</em> they’d wanted with him, as long as they left Morgan out of it and save her from further trauma by sedating her so she wouldn’t have to watch.</p><p>Tony was relieved at the miniscule mercy bestowed upon him when they’d yielded to his pleas the next time they returned. Morgan tried to resist, jerking away from the needle that contained the sedative that would leave her unconscious for the next couple hours or so, though despite her resistance, she was still very weak from barely recovering from the trauma to her head due to her failed suicide attempt, so in the end, she was still subdued by their assailants and put to sleep within a matter of minutes after the injection.</p><p>And then the hell for him commenced and it would last for an uncertain amount of time, oftentimes until he’d passed out from a combination of dehydration and exhaustion, and sometimes, even that wasn’t enough for it to stop. The only solace he’d found in it all was the fact that Morgan had been ignored, untouched and unharmed. It was the singular best thing to come out of this new arrangement and he’d savored it.</p><p>However, in the end, it was all for naught. The arrangement didn’t last nearly as long as he anticipated, and in reality, he should’ve seen it coming, should’ve known he wouldn’t be capable of shielding Morgan from the horrors their assailants bestowed upon them on a regular basis. He’d tried his damndest to, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. It <em>never</em> seemed to be enough.</p><p>Not only was she forced to watch from now on, but she was taunted, verbally abused and oftentimes sexually assaulted as well by the greyhounds and by their assailants simultaneously when they were feeling extra cruel and vicious.</p><p>Morgan had long ago ceased putting up much of a resistance anymore, her will to fight had dwindled considerably and Tony could tell her spirit had been permanently broken. The glint in her eyes when one of their assailants had her body pinned to the ground as he raped her was haunting, it was as if there wasn’t any life behind her eyes, not even horror or sadness or pain, only emptiness.</p><p>She wasn’t herself in those excruciating moments of despair, she’d developed a defense mechanism, one she’d shared with him not long after the sexual assaults began. She explained how her mind would drift off to reliving some of the happiest moments in her life and much of it was spent horseback riding with her beloved horses, with Misty.</p><p>Tony’s heart ached at the revelation for a multitude of reasons but most notably guilt, reminded of Morgan’s undying love for horses and how at one point, her life had been utterly consumed by horseback riding until the infamous accident happened and then he forbade her from ever going near a horse again. At the time, he’d convinced himself it was solely because he feared for Morgan’s safety and wouldn’t take another chance on her getting injured again, which, in truth, was majority of the reason he cut her off. But it was also his jealousy, as ridiculous as it was looking back; Tony had grown to silently resent the hobby his daughter had taken to so well because her time and attention became split, limited mostly, and their relationship began to fall by the wayside as a result.</p><p>His intentions hadn’t been as sincere as he’d portrayed them to be and goodness, to be responsible for taking away the one thing that made Morgan <em>so</em> happy just because he’d allowed his possessiveness to get the best of him was such an awful feeling he had to contend with now. Truthfully, it made him feel like complete shit for taking something so precious and pure away from Morgan due to his own selfish desires and insecurities.</p><p>His way of compensating for it was making a promise to himself and to her that when they escaped, when they’d finally make it out of this hellhole, one of the first things he would do is buy her a ranch and she could have all the animals she desired.</p><p>Tony could never forget the light behind her eyes as she spoke about the type of animals she would acquire; horses, lambs, rabbits, deer, grey goose, tigers and sheep. When Tony voiced concern about if those types of animals could get along, Morgan simply giggled and snuggled up closer to him as her head rested against his arm that’d began to numb a bit from the persistent pressure, but he didn’t care enough to complain about it.</p><p>“My animals will be different dad. They won’t wanna fight each other.”</p><p>“How can you be so sure?” Tony murmured; his fingers were tangled in her hair while his other hand crept across her lower abdomen, inching closer and closer towards the familiar patch of soft curls that inevitably brushed against his wrist, sending pleasant quivers up his spine in response.</p><p>“I just am,” she replies, her breath hitching as the pads of his fingers brush against her labia teasingly, before they eventually sank between her soft warm folds that twitched as they enveloped his fingers, coating them with her nectar.</p><p>She groaned, her eyes fluttering open and shut when he began stroking her clit, causing her to spread her thighs further apart and to squirm around a bit, shifting this way and that until she’s practically grinding herself against his fingers that are now soaked. The feeling was soft and wet and the small prickles of hair from her cunt tickled his knuckles as she moved against his hand.</p><p>When it was all said and done, when her orgasm had overtaken her in a way that left her body trembling beside him, her skin coated in a light sheen of sweat as the warm heat of her emanated against him, prompting him to pull her body closer to his, it is only then that she asks him what his happy place was when things became too much for him.</p><p>“You,” he murmurs as she starts nibbling on his earlobe. “…You’re my happy place Morgie.”</p><p>It was said without much hesitation because it was true. Morgan <em>is</em> his happy place, she always had been, the memories of her youth, of cradling her small form in his arms just hours after she was brought into this world. Some of his most cherished memories in life involved Morgan.</p><p>It was also rather interesting to Tony how Morgan could oftentimes be his eternal idyll and everlasting hellfire all at once, how she could stir up so many conflicting emotions within him in a way he truthfully found troubling, in more ways than one.</p><p>“...Am I?” She whispers, suckling on the skin of his neck, near his Adam’s apple. “...Am I your entire world, daddy?”</p><p>“You know you are sweetheart, you’ve always been, from the very beginning...”</p><p>Cautiously, the pads of her fingers begin to trace the lacerations that bruise his skin. He winces a few times when her nails graze fresh contusions gifted by no other than their deranged assailants who had gotten a bit too slap-happy with the whip which resulted in further rupturing his completely torn flesh.</p><p>Though he winces, he doesn’t push her hand away like he probably should have, partially because he was fond of her touch, that much was obvious at this point, but also because there was something painfully delightful about the way she’d press her fingers into certain bruises, grazed her nails against broken flesh and pressed her lips to the old wounds that were in the very slow process of healing. The jarring yet simultaneous feeling of it all made him feel as wondrous as it did eldritch.</p><p>His breath may have hitched when those same nails began to graze the sparse patches of hair that covered his groin. He should be surprised when she takes him into her hands, but he’s not. He feels more euphoric than surprised and he dislikes it, though not enough to cease the way his hips began to chase her hand in desperate yet earnest thrusts as she pumps his cock with just the right amount of speed and pressure despite the fact that he’s already leaking all over her hand as he lets out heavy pants and animalistic growls in response to her touch.</p><p>The tips of her hair tickle his skin as she slithers down between his legs to eventually take him into her mouth. She gazes up at him with eyes so dark he wonders how she could even see. They frighten him; the longer he stares into them, the emptiness, the gloominess, the desolation, he could feel it all just by looking into them, the dark abyss he found himself falling deeper and deeper into, and it was petrifying, but it was also intoxicating for him.</p><p>Tony realized long ago that he was always stuck in a constant state of not wanting Morgan anywhere near him due to this fear he harbored of her, of the many things she could do to him, to herself, and the various things she could make him feel... but also wanting her to be so much closer to him than she already was, mostly due to his loneliness and precarious desires for any form closeness and comfort he could acquire in such dismal circumstances.</p><p>He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him anymore, and at this point, he doesn’t believe he will ever truly know.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the twenty-eighth of May.”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“We’ve been here for over a year.”</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“I overheard them talking. It was Logan I think, he said something about how ‘Amanda’ told him of her ‘condition’ on Mother’s Day, about how 2019 was going to be the year he was going to be a first-time father, how she would be due around February of 2020 if things went according to plan. He said something about it being four days away from June since that was the day of her next doctor’s appointment I think.”</p><p>“…”</p><p>“So that means that today or tonight is your birthday.”</p><p>“Another year closer to death. Yay for me.”</p><p>Her father’s tone and overall attitude had a cold sarcasm to it that she didn’t care for at all.</p><p>“Don’t say that.” She rebukes, unable to conceal the clear disdain in her voice as she does so.</p><p>He didn’t respond after that and Morgan figures it’s because her father is in one of his infamous moods again. She almost regrets sharing with him what she’d overheard from the mouths of their assailants because the revelation seemed to dampen the mood considerably, not that it took much to do these days, but still. The change in the atmosphere was quite noticeable.</p><p>“…How’s your head feeling?” He asks after another prolonged moment of silence.</p><p>“Alright I guess,” she shrugs, reaching for the half-empty glass of water. “They’re becoming farther apart, so that’s always a good sign I think.”</p><p>Morgan had still felt like the scum of the earth, was still mourning the loss of the baby, the one that they’d intentionally ripped out of her in such a harrowing manner that she could never forget and would forever have nightmares about. She was also still struggling to come to terms with the fact that her life would end in absolute torment and despair. But at least she wouldn’t be alone and she would leave this world with the one she loved most by her side.</p><p>Eventually, a silence falls upon them yet again, a tension-filled one. Morgan watches as her father turns on his side with a hushed grunt so his back is now facing her. She takes her time memorizing the scars and ruptured flesh that cover the skin of his back. Some of the broken flesh appeared yellow in hue, a clear sign of healing taking place, which Morgan had been eternally grateful for because she often worried about her father getting an infection from the injuries he suffered. She made sure she’d washed his back as often as he allowed, visibly wincing every time the memories of the audible lashes of the whip tearing away at human flesh, her father’s flesh. The cries of unadulterated pain and anguish would haunt Morgan for the rest of her days. Somehow, she stupidly didn’t believe things could get any worse than the abortion, but it did, <em>so</em> much worse.</p><p>“…This also means you’re sixteenth birthday has already passed and you’ll be seventeen soon…” he murmurs out, breaking the tension-filled silence between them. “Happy belated birthday sweetheart.”</p><p>A sleepy smile graces her face as she snuggles up close beside him, savoring the lighter moments shared between them no matter how fleeting they were, moments of genuine kindness and love, moments when things weren’t as intense or painful between them, but innocent and sweet, sort of like how it used to be before things had abruptly switched directions between them.</p><p>She lets out a soft sigh as she gazes up at the ceiling where the red bulbs that dangled from above them swayed about in a way Morgan had always found a bit disorienting at times, especially if one stared at them for too long like she’s done more than a gazillion times until she literally made herself sick and her father had forced her to sleep on her belly to avoid the nauseating glow of red, though it was damn near impossible to do in such a tiny space. </p><p>“...Feels weird that I’ve already turned sixteen and I’ll be turning seventeen in December...” she trails off just before a morbid thought occurs to her as she wonders if she will even survive long enough to see her seventeenth birthday. “…I wonder if I’ll make it out alive to see it…”</p><p>Her father doesn’t respond, like she half-expects him to, he doesn’t. She feels bittersweet about the fact that he wasn’t rushing to assuage away her fears like he’d done so many times in the past. It was obvious to Morgan that his faith had considerably waned since then and she couldn’t necessarily blame him for it because her faith that she would make it out of this situation alive had dwindled tremendously.</p><p>It was crazy how life had a way of humbling you in the most unpredictable, unexpected of ways. She never thought it would be a lesson she needed to learn until now and it would be one she would never truly forget, no matter how hard she tried.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan lets out an audible whimper when she feels the scruffiness of her father’s beard brush against the sensitive skin between her thighs, planting teasing wet kisses across her abdomen and inner thighs.</p><p>She visibly quivers when she feels him nuzzle the bridge of his nose against her pubic hair; inhaling deeply as he tightens the grip he has on her hips as he holds her in place. The ache from her barely healing bruises as he unintentionally presses into them has her clenching at the mattress beneath her, moaning when she feels that familiar swipe of his tongue to her pussy.</p><p>Her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head when the pleasure of his tongue was instantaneous, leaving her practically sobbing out in pleasure as a sudden heat rises to the surface of her skin.</p><p>She gazes down at her father between her legs and watches him with half-hooded eyes as he eats her out, her body trembling as she begins to squirm in his grasp, but his hold on her is firm and unwavering, and every harsh swipe of his tongue to her clit brings her closer and closer to the edge.</p><p>It’s apparent by the way she inevitably begs him to make her cum, the way her eyes glisten as she whines out <em>daddy, daddy, daddy</em> over and over, her eyes never straying from the vivid view of her father suckling her clit until she’s a sobbing mess, cuming into his awaiting mouth with a high-pitched moan.</p><p>“...Nnn... wanna fuck—” is all she can really manage to get out in-between in her struggles to get her breathing back to normal.</p><p>It seems her father had a similar idea in mind if the way he seems to take her by the bend of her knees and unceremoniously drag her down onto his leaking erection is anything to go by, evoking an audible groan from her in response to the feeling alone and the erotic sounds of their naked flesh joining.</p><p>“Ugh… uh, fuck.” She moans, locking her ankles around his waist as he begins to move. “Fuck…”</p><p>Morgan wants a kiss from him, but he won’t give it to her, because he’s in one of his moods, one of his moods where he’s most concerned with the act of getting off itself than getting caught up in the throes of passion with her. She can tell by the hardened, determined glint in his eyes and the way his hips begin to slam into hers vigorously, roughly. It bothers her, if only a little bit, but most of all: she’s content with being the center of her father’s attention, even if it’s her body that keeps his concentration on her, she doesn’t care. She simply enjoyed being close to him in this way. She loved the way his cock seemed to fill her up just right, the way it seemed as if they were meant for each other in every way there is to be.</p><p>As he plunges deeper inside, she deliriously wonders if they’d been soul mates in a past life, in a universe other than this one, where they’d been husband and wife, infamous lovers rather than father and daughter. It had to be true. She <em>wanted</em> it to be true. It would explain <em>so</em> much for her, most notably why she harbored such intense yet incestuous desires towards her own biological father, why she desperately craved his presence near, why she did everything within her power to please him and why she was always spreading her legs for him like a whore he’d purchased off the street, always begging to be sucked and fucked into an oblivion, till she couldn’t think straight enough to remember her own name or where she was.</p><p>Maybe that had always been the goal, to forget who she was or what was happening to her. Morgan wasn’t sure anymore, just knew that she loved the feeling of him inside of her and the provocative view of his face between her thighs. It drove her mad with unadulterated desire. It was like a drug she’d become addicted to. He was a drug she’d become addicted to and couldn’t get enough of.</p><p>She watches him float above her as he takes her for the umpteenth time, fucking her vigorously as she could hear and feel his balls repeatedly smack against her ass, evoking warm, heavy pants from her response.</p><p>He’s repositioning himself, pushing down on her thighs and spreading them further apart while digging his short nails into the bruised skin as he chases his own pleasure at this point.</p><p>“Oh, oh Daddy… Daddy — <em>uh!</em> — gonna cum again… gonna… please—” her knees press into his hips as he rocks into her with long and smooth yet purposeful strokes that have her arching her back and shuddering from delivering yet another orgasm.</p><p>He grunts, grasping hold of her thigh as he propels forward, eyes glazed over with animalistic lust as he fucks her through her orgasm, hips never stuttering when she begins to push back against his thrusts, creating a spark of pleasure that leaves them both breathless.</p><p>She wants to ride him so badly, flip him onto his back and sink her claws into him, but overall he was still worse for wear and wasn’t in any position to do anything too strenuous if he could help it, so she would have to settle for one position for now, which wasn’t too bad at all, <em>especially</em> when she was able to maneuver her body in a way that allowed her the ability to lay on her side whilst he lied behind her, still buried inside her as she eagerly pushes back against him, in a desperate attempt at taking as much of him as her body allowed.</p><p>“Morgie… you greedy little thing...” she hears him mutter out before wrapping a firm arm around her waist as he holds her in place, wasting no time as he resumes the pounding of his hips against her backside, forcing her body to sway a bit from his movements.</p><p>The heat of his skin as it presses and rubs against her own has her leaning into his embrace, one of her hands moving to to interlock their fingers as her father’s breaths become heavier by the minute.</p><p>She loudly whines out his name as he pushes her into a third orgasm, his hand that held tightly onto her waist slid past the flat plane of her belly, briefly brushing against the familiar patch of soft curls that cover her crotch as he moves to wrap his hand around her thigh, lifting it up a bit and groaning subsequently as the position allows those few extra inches of penetration that’s enough to send her father into a state of wild orgasmic bliss.</p><p>“Morgan,” he gasps over the wet sounds of their sex. “Ah!—”</p><p>And she feels it then, the thick ropes of cum that engulf her almost overwhelmingly so as it leaks between her thighs as he continued vigorously thrusting his hips against her backside. He keeps her leg semi-suspended in the air as he fucks his way into yet another orgasm with a loud cry of her name on his lips.</p><p>By the end, their skin is coated in sweat as they struggle to catch their breaths. Her father’s cum oozed from within her, trickling down between her legs, prompting him to withdraw from her and run the top of his cock between her thighs and cheeks teasingly, spreading his seed across her naked skin as she let out soft little moans in response.</p><p>No words are exchanged between them, only long meaningful looks and tender kisses. Sometimes, it could be that way for them. They didn’t always have to verbally communicate to one another, they communicated in other ways that didn’t require words, but Morgan understood all the same.</p><p>Morgan thinks, if she had to choose, she’d prefer to be in her father’s arms and covered in his cum than an extravagant birthday, maybe because she’d never felt as at peace in her life as she did in that very moment with him. Spending her last moments on earth like this, leaving it this way would be <em>so </em>much better than the way she tried to leave it, so violent and reckless. This… this was how it should’ve been, how she wanted it to be. This was better than any birthday she could’ve ever imagined and if she couldn’t make it to see her seventeenth, this would be enough for her. It had to be. It is.</p><p>“Happy birthday daddy,” she murmurs out sleepily before succumbing to the exhaustion and rest her body desperately craved in her father’s protective embrace.</p><p> </p><p>~<strong>*</strong>~</p><p> </p><p>Morgan has dreams or maybe they’re more like nightmares, they seem more like nightmares, but they feel like a dream.</p><p>She has dreams about life before <em>this</em>, with her father, but they’re quite different than she ever remembers.</p><p>In these dreams slash nightmares, it’s just her and her father, no one else, only them. Them and a baby. She doesn’t know where the baby came from, but for some reason, she knows the baby has relations to them in some way, shape or form. In her nightmares, the baby scares her as does her father, but only when he yells at her, spews such venom at her that it makes her believe he regrets being responsible for her existence. He said so once, in one of their plentiful arguments in real life, so it makes sense those ugly words would haunt her in her sleep.</p><p>She prefers the dreams where they’re the only two people in the world, the only people that matter and she can be who she wants with him and in turn, he can be who he wants with her. No prying or judgmental eyes. Only them and their love for each other, <em>her</em> love for <em>him</em>. God, if he’d truly known how much her love extended for him, it’d probably scare him. It surely scared her.</p><p>It scared her maybe even more than the nightmares of that baby with the white eyes ripping her insides to shreds, screaming at her with a hatred she’s not completely unfamiliar with, and using its razor sharp teeth and scissor-like hands to slice her throat open several different ways from different angles. And every time she’d awakened from those horrendous nightmares, the blue apparitions would inevitably be near. Just when she thought she’d finally gotten rid of them, when she’d thought it’d been her mind playing tricks on her again, she’d seen the silhouette of the aqua blue hovering above her tauntingly.</p><p>The blue apparitions as well as the nightmares only worsened for her, especially when the torment from their captors increased by a tenfold. It became a bit of a blur, small bits of clarity between seemingly brief moments of mercy when their assailants aren’t around and she’s alone with her father yet again, covered in bruises, new and old, with them desperately tending to one another’s wounds with the extremely limited amount of resources available with them desperately clinging to any semblance of hope and comfort they could find within each other.</p><p>It was a never ending cycle of unadulterated agony and dysfunction. Sinking ships is what they were now, drowning and descending all the way down to the bottom of the ocean floor, deserted, left for dead and to slowly await for death to consume them and unshackle them from the misery that had been their life now. </p><p>“You think you two have endured the worst of the worse? That you’ve <em>truly</em> suffered? You ingrates ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”</p><p>“Please, we’ve had enough.” Tony utters out dejectedly.</p><p>“You shut your fucking mouth! You haven’t had enough until <em>I</em> say you’ve had enough.”</p><p>Morgan couldn’t believe she was staring at the same boy she used to spend a good portion of her time fantasizing about. He looked so different now through a new more realistic lens. A part of her couldn’t believe she’d been entertaining the likes of her alleged half-brother this entire time, that while she began to develop genuine feelings of fondness for the boy that could’ve eventually grew to be love, had been playing her like a fiddle, taking advantage of her naiveté and had only viewed her as a means to an end for the bigger picture at play, which was exacting revenge on her father for things that took place before she was even a thought on anyone’s radar.</p><p>“...You used me…” she murmurs out pitifully.</p><p>“Welcome to the real world princess, <em>everyone</em> has done it including yourself so don’t act too shocked.” He sneers.</p><p>“My feelings towards you were genuine.” She declares with narrowed eyes.</p><p>“Were they?” Miles questions with a quirk of his brows. “Or was I just another pawn in your board game to further piss off ole daddy-o just ‘cause you asked for the world and he said no. You know you have a penchant for that kind of thing.”</p><p>“Your issue is with<em> me</em> dammit! Focus on <em>me</em>. Not her!” Tony explodes.</p><p>“Oh, but don’t you know that by focusing on her, I <em>am</em> focusing on you.” He smirks.</p><p>Morgan watches her father’s hardened expression and the ice cold glint in his eyes as he stares at the young man who’d been in the midst of what seemed to be emptying the bullet shells of one of his plentiful firearms.</p><p>“I can guarantee whatever Angel told you about me and your mother are lies.”</p><p>Miles scoffs.</p><p>“You <em>really</em> believe I’m going to take the word of a man who sees nothing wrong with fucking his biological daughter with any merit?”</p><p>“Does that include Angel?” Her father retorts, clear venom laced behind his words. “He may know a thing or two about that.”</p><p>Miles whips around, an incensed look on his face with a particular rage in those bright emerald eyes that Morgan used to adore and fawn over. Now, she cannot see them without picturing the monster that resided behind them.</p><p>“You know, to be in such vulnerable positions, with your lives literally hanging in the balance, neither of you ever seems to know when to shut the fuck up. Must be hereditary.”</p><p>“You have no idea what that dear old grandfather of yours was <em>actually</em> doing to Isabella, the hell he constantly put her through—”</p><p>Morgan screams when Miles, moving across the room ever so swiftly and backhanding her with the bud of whatever firearm he had in his possession and subsequently shoving the barrel into her mouth.</p><p>“You were saying?”</p><p>“…”</p><p>Miles smirks, brushing his fingers through her hair idly.</p><p>“Knew this would be all it took to shut you up. She’s your ultimate weakness. Should’ve let the spoiled weak bitch off herself, you’d’ve been better off.”</p><p>Morgan squeals when she feels him shove the barrel further inside her mouth, getting off on her state of unadulterated panic. He smirks and grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks it back so that she’s peering up at him pathetically.</p><p>“Mm, I like the sight of this right here. Don’t you daddy-o?” Miles chuckles, flashing a sinister grin her father’s way as he tightens the grip on her hair. “I could blow her brains out right here, right now, and there would be absolutely nothing you could do about it.”</p><p>Tears well up in her eyes as her eyes flicker over to her father’s and they’re already upon her and although she cannot make out much due to the blurriness her tears of agony caused, she could see the silent rage in her father’s demeanor, how red his face and neck had turned in a matter of seconds.</p><p>“But that would be too easy, too simple and quick for what you would deserve.”</p><p>Miles then removes the barrel of the gun from her mouth and violently pushes her to the floor.</p><p>“Besides, the boys would miss their favorite fuck toy. Gotta keep you around for a bit longer just for that alone.” He laughs derisively. “Anyways, I didn’t come all the way down here for chitter-chatter. I wanted to play a little game here, a little game called Russian Roulette.”</p><p>“Anything but that,” Tony tries to plead almost immediately, such a swift change in his demeanor compared to the boiling anger he displayed a few minutes prior. “Anything.”</p><p>“As with everything else, you simply have no choice in the matter. And please, for your own sakes, do <em>not</em> try any funny business, because if you do, I won’t hesitate on decapitating any form of limbs that choose to betray my word.”</p><p>Miles picks up one of his firearms from the rusty makeshift table and spins the cylinder in place and moves to place the muzzle of the gun to his temple.</p><p>“I’ll do the honors of going first.” Miles doesn’t waste any time pulling the trigger, a deranged glint in his eyes as he does so, which sends chills down her spine in response. “...No such luck,” he grumbles when nothing happens, moving to take a step forward. “Alrighty then, who wants to go next?”</p><p>Despite her rapidly beating heart, she opens her mouth to announce that it would be her, but her father beats her to it.</p><p>“Look at you two eager beavers, so lustful for death. Can’t say I’m surprised. I guess that’s what nearly a year and a half of absolute hell will get you.”</p><p>Miles goes to press the barrel of the gun to the back of her father’s head and Morgan felt as if her heart would explode out of her chest. Her mouth felt dry and her tongue felt three sizes bigger.</p><p>“N-No…—”</p><p>“Let’s see if it’s your time to meet your inevitable fate.” Miles smirks.</p><p>“<em>No!</em>” She screeches just as Miles pulls the trigger.</p><p>The derisive laughter from Miles is what brings Morgan back to reality. She opens her eyes and finds her father with a disquieting expression on his face. Tears welled up at the corner of his eyes as Miles then moves towards her.</p><p>“Oh, such a drama queen you,” Miles quips before pressing that cold barrel to her forehead. “Hmph, hopefully third time’s the charm. These may be your last moments alive, princess. Any last sentiments?”</p><p>It was ironic to Morgan, how much she fantasied about death, her endless suicidal ideations, and how badly she did indeed desire to die just as a means of escape.</p><p>But not like this. Not at the hands of a man that stripped away her humanity in every possible way, by someone who saw her as lower than the dirt. Not this way, in this manner, for such vain reasons. It wasn’t supposed to end this way for her. But of course it made sense that it would, because nothing ever seemed to go as they should, the bad always seemed to outweigh the good, and given all the sins she’s committed without a single care in the world, maybe this was her karma. This was, realistically, the only ending she truly deserved.</p><p>“...I…I’m sorry I wasn’t a better daughter, that I couldn’t be better, not even for you...” Her voice trembles a bit as she avoids eye contact, unable to even look her father in the eyes, mostly out of shame, guilt and unadulterated fear. “...I’m sorry... and I love you, more than you will ever know...”</p><p>“Pathetic,” Miles immediately ridicules with a shake of his head. “Of <em>all </em>things to apologize for, that’s what you come up with? How about ‘I’m sorry for turning out no better than a whore off the street, for wounding up with a father like you, who was the sole cause for my life as I know it to go down the drain. I hate you and I will never forgive you for the havoc you’ve caused that has inevitably put me in this predicament through no fault of my own.’ Can’t even get that right I see. Good riddance.”</p><p>Tony lunges at Miles just as he pulls the trigger. The gun goes off, but due to the struggle, Miles stumbles forward and loses sight of his target.</p><p>The bullet released from its shell casing ricochets off the concrete walls and right into the left shoulder blade of Miles who screeched in pain, so loudly, it painfully rang through Morgan’s ear, nearly destroying what was left of the ear she could still clearly hear from.</p><p>“Motherfucker! You’re gonna pay for that!”</p><p>It all happened so fast, Morgan could hardly process what had happened next. Miles pistol whipped her father unconscious and then moved to snatch one of his firearms off the makeshift table and aimed it at her father, aimlessly firing off two shots.</p><p>He then turned to her with a bleeding shoulder blade and an anguished expression and fired another shot towards her before overwhelming darkness seized her vision completely.</p>
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